


30 Day OTP Challenge - Briemund Edition

by briemundlover



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Developing Relationship, Drabble, Established Relationship, F/M, Fluff, Post Season 7, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-03
Updated: 2019-01-05
Packaged: 2019-01-29 02:37:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 24
Words: 23,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12621276
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/briemundlover/pseuds/briemundlover
Summary: My attempt at the 30 day OTP Challenge featuring my favorite Game of Thrones pairing, Brienne of Tarth and Tormund Giantsbane.





	1. Holding Hands

**Author's Note:**

> You can find the complete list [here](https://30dayotpchallenge.deviantart.com/journal/30-Day-OTP-Challenge-LIST-325248585). The chapters don't necessarily come in chronological order, and some of them take place in Modern Day AU for obvious reasons. I don’t promise to update it everyday though... I hope you enjoy it anyway!

Brienne stands at the top of the Broken Tower of Winterfell by herself, watching the sunrise. The sight is breathtaking, but it could also be because of wars about to come. The war against Ramsay Bolton and the Others. Everything is alright right now, but she knows that hen she expects the least, the dead army will arrive and hells will break loose.

It is not unusual for her to be anxious before an imminent battle, but this time she is terrified. Never in her life had she imagined she would have to have to fight the White Walkers. She is glad, however, that her Oathkeeper is made of Valyrian steel, one of the weapons against them, alongside dragonglass. _It looks as though Jaime knew what he was doing after all_ , she thinks, smiling.

“Why are you smiling, lass?” a deep, rough voice interrupts her thoughts. Tormund then gazes into the horizon. “Beautiful view, ain’t it?”

“It is,” Brienne agrees. She looks at him for a while, then back at the rising sun. In a few hours he will accompany Lady Sansa, Lord Snow and a few others in a small entourage to meet Ramsay Bolton, while she and Podrick Payne will travel to Riverrun in order to get help from Brynden Tully. It had been hard for her her to leave her protector’s side, but Sansa had guaranteed she would be safe with her half brother. Brienne was convinced of that, but she could not say the same about the others, especially the Wildling fellow who is now standing right beside her, closing the distance between them.

“You alright?” Tormund asks tentatively. “If it’s the Stark girl you’re worried about-”

Brienne interrupts him, “No, it’s fine, really. I know she will be safe. It’s something else that worries me.”

“The White Walkers?”

She shoots him a ‘How do you know that’ look, but she realizes it is a shared fear. “Yes,” she finally concedes.

Tormund sighs. “Trust me, lass, nothing has scared the hells out of me more than the dead coming back to life. I’ve lost so many dear people at Hardhome.”

“I can only imagine your pain,” Brienne says with a sympathetic hand on Tormund's shoulder. His words pain her, but she cannot help but find herself surprised by her gesture. He grins at her. She blushes.

His voice carries anger. “Aye, it still hurts. But I tell you what, after we win this batter for Snow, I want to crush those dead fuckers and revenge my people.”

Brienne slowly removes her hand from Tormund’s shoulder and watches him as he stares to what is in front of him. Then she does the same. She still does not trust the Wildling entirely, she still does not like the way he looks at her, but something inside her – maybe her honor? – makes her want to ease his fears and pains. There is nothing more that she can do or say right now, nothing but reach for his hand and intertwine her fingers with his. Too bad their hands are gloved right now, for she would like to feel his skin.

“I want to be there by your side, Tormund,” she tells him. “I want to fight them alongside you.”

He only presses her hand a little more. “Aye. I’d like that, Brienne.”


	2. Cuddling Somewhere

For Tormund, it was a lovely surprise to find out Brienne is a cuddler.

Their relationship is still flourishing, and Brienne does not feel quite ready yet to tell the world, and most of all, Lady Sansa Stark, they are a couple. As long as Tormund gets to spend as much time as possible with her, he is perfectly fine with it. He had done the most difficult part already, which was stealing her in a way he was not used to; an official announcement could wait.

He suspects, however, that she is starting to give away their secret without knowing she is.

It first happened one night when Tormund's watch was almost ending. He was supposed to wake Brienne up for her turn, but she had been quicker.

“It's not your turn yet, woman,” he smiled when he saw her standing next to him. “You should go back to your tent.”

“I know,” she replied with a grumpy face. “I just can't sleep anymore. Too cold for my taste. I might as well wait for my turn here.”

Tormund shrugged. “Then be my guest. Would you-” before he could complete his invitation, Brienne was sitting down on the log he was occupying, and he could not help but chuckle.

After a few silent moments, while looking into the distance, Tormund caught himself thinking how nice it would be if he could wrap his arm around Brienne, but knowing how she would about public displays of affection at this early stage of their relationship, he decided against it. However, before he knew it, he felt the weight of her head on his shoulder.

“Brienne?” he called quietly after searching her face. Yes, she had fallen asleep on his shoulder. Tormund smiled, and this time he was incapable of stopping himself from involving her in an embrace and kissing her yellow hair he loved so much.

Tormund felt knackered the next morning, but he could not care less. It had felt really good to have Brienne sleep in his arms, in a way.

On another occasion, they were coming back from another night of hard riding, along with some men of Winterfell. Tormund, still not used to riding a horse, was feeling especially tired and ready for some sleep, when he felt an impact on his arm. He looked to the side, and there was Brienne’s head falling to his direction. He delicately tried to straighten her body, but without success. Soon her head once again had found her place on his shoulder.

Just when Tormund was feeling thankful he and Brienne were at the end of the line and thinking no one had seen what transpired between them, a man decided to casually look over his shoulder and could not hide his shock. Tormund's reaction was to only shrug, pretending to be as stunned and confused as he was. The man of Winterfell raised his eyebrow, but eventually turned his head.

The Free Folk man let Brienne sleep until they approached the Great Castle. He had decided not to tell a word to her about that.

Tormund is now in his bed, laughing at that morning's events when a few knocks on his door interrupts his thoughts. He reluctantly leaves his furs, opens his door and is amazed to see the Lady of Tarth outside his chambers.

“Lass,” he gasps. For some reason he was not expecting to see her there. Not yet, anyway.

“May I come in?” she asks hesitantly.

“Of course.” Tormund promptly steps away from the door. He observes her close the door behind her, wondering what she could want at this hour of night. Still hesitantly, Brienne slowly comes closer to him and stops, her hands twisting together nervously.

He breaks the silence between them, “So? Anything wrong?”

She cleans her throat, looks everywhere before then begins. “I, I can't sleep.”

 _That again. What's her plan?_ Tormund raises one eyebrow, “You can't sleep? Why not?”

Brienne sighs, a little annoyed. “Well, my chambers are cold, I don't want to go out and get more logs for my hearth and,” she pauses, and Tormund notices she is blushing. “The truth is, turns out I can't sleep if you're not around.”

“Oh,” he tries hard not to laugh, choosing to express a mock shock with a hand on his cheek. “You’re saying you want to sleep with me, my lady?”

“Ugh, yes, but _only_ sleep, if you wouldn't mind,” she answers through gritted teeth, the annoyance in her voice growing.

Tormund giggles, but indicates to her the way to his bed. They then proceed to lay down and make themselves comfortable under the soon-to-be-their furs, and once again Brienne manages to astonish him by placing her head over his chest, wrapping one arm around his abdomen and thrusting one leg between his.

“This still stays between us, or I’ll shave this red beard you’re so proud of off, alright, Tormund?” Brienne suddenly threatens without raising her head.

This time Tormund's laughter is louder. “As my lady wishes.”

And who would have thought such a respected knight like Brienne of Tarth could be a massive cuddler? And the best part is, only Tormund knows that.


	3. Watching a Movie

_Beauty and the Beast_ is and will always be one of Brienne's all-time favorite films, both the animated movie and now its recent live action version, which she and Tormund are watching now. It does not bother her that some songs were changed slightly, she sings along to all of them. She still sighs during the couple's waltz, cringes every time Gaston appears and cries when the prince dies and then comes back to life as a human being. Although Brienne loves Belle to bits -- independent, dreamer, brave -- she has always felt a bit like the Beast.

“The Beast?” Tormund asks, confused, as the credits roll, after helping her wipe her happy tears. “Why would you do that? Such a heavenly creature like you.”

She rolls her eyes, but smiles, accepting the compliment. Of course he would say that. She does not say anything, choosing to shrug instead.

“I mean it, Brienne,” he continues, serious, which makes her turn her attention back to him. “I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: you should have had hordes of men fighting to have you.”

“Well, maybe, I guess. Who wouldn’t like to have that? But no, it never happened. Men never found me attractive, no matter how I tried to make myself look less… ugly.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever understand how a gorgeous woman like you could have spent most of her life being looked down upon by these Southern morons.”

Brienne holds Tormund's hand between both of hers. “Thank you, love. But that still happened.”

He shakes his head in disbelief. “They’re all idiots.”

“They are. Lucky me that you aren’t, though,” Brienne finishes, placing a kiss on his cheek.

“Oh, I’d be a right fool if I didn’t have you.” He lets go of her hand to hold her in his arms and give her one of his trademark couch snogs.

Brienne had told Tormund already how she had spent a great part of her life been judged by her appearance, pretty much like the Beast, and how, after a long history of frustrated (blind) dates, fake infatuation, general mockery and basically being let down, she had decided love was not for her.

It all had changed when he came along. At first, she did not believe he was being honest about his advances and compliments, that he was really attracted by her, but sooner rather than later she was convinced he was the one for her. Gods know when or if she will ever meet another man like him!

Tormund breaks their kiss and their embrace to get up and eject the Blu-ray disc. Suddenly he adds, “Besides, if someone here should be considered a beast, that would be me.”

“And why is that?” she asks with a frown, curious.

“Well, I’m a Free Folk man, after all,” he replies, gesturing to himself with his free hand. “Or, as people from south prefer to put, a _Wildling_.”

“Oh.” If Brienne has to be honest to herself, she had done her bit of prejudgment herself, for which she had apologized Tormund once they first got together. She even had stopped referring to him and his people as Wildlings. If there is one thing _Beauty and the Beast_ teaches, it is how not to judge people by their appearance. She then gets up, stands beside him and puts an arm around his shoulder. “That may be true, Tormund, but people only need time to get to really know you, and they will see what an amazing, brilliant man you are. Just like Belle did with the Beast. Ask everyone who knows you. Ask Jon Snow. Ask me.”

He stays quiet for a few seconds, only staring at her, a faint blush on his face. She loves it when she renders him speechless, which does not happen very often.

“And let’s be honest,” Brienne continues, taking advantage of Tormund’s silence. “Has it ever crossed your mind you’d end up ‘stealing’ a Southern woman? And yet you have, my dear, and keeps on stealing me.”

“The best of them all,” he says proudly, and kisses her again. She sighs into the kiss, relieved that he is not feeling insecure anymore. “Thank you, Brienne.”

"No worries. And since you've been a wonderful boyfriend tonight and put up with me being silly and all, now we can watch anything you want."

Tormund’s face lights up adorably, like a boy who has just been given his favorite candy. He goes to the rack, finds what he was been looking for and shows her the case. “ _The Fate of the Furious_?”

Brienne never cared much about _The Fast and the Furious_ franchise, but she knows Tormund loves it. At least she can cuddle up with him if she falls asleep during the movie. _Maybe lay my head on his lap?_ Why not? Yes, she thinks she can make it.

“Will you mind me asking the odd question about the plot or the characters now and then?” she inquires with a grin.

“Not at all!” Tormund’s enthusiastic answer makes her smile even wider.

“Awesome! _The Fate of the Furious_ it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just for the record, I must say English isn't my native language, so if you see any mistakes, you are welcome to let me know and correct me.
> 
> Anyway, I'd like to thank everyone for the hits, kudos and comments you've left so far. I'm glad you're enjoying this little project of mine. =)


	4. On a Date

_Pull yourself together, man. Come on, it’s just a date!_

Tormund takes one last deep breath before ringing the doorbell, his other arm hidden behind his back. He is feeling somewhat ridiculous. This is far from being his first date with a woman, and yet he does feel butterflies in his stomach, just like a teenager nonetheless. He knows this is not just a date. Tonight his date is with Brienne.

The fact that the magnificent Brienne of Tarth actually accepted his invitation to a play and dinner in a nice restaurant afterwards still amazes him. From the moment he laid his eyes on her at a rather crowded pub, he knew he was before the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen. After a few beers -- and a sip of his sour goat’s milk -- he felt brave enough to leave his table, walk toward her and flirt with her for a bit.

When he was about to touch her shoulder, a couple of drunk men bumped into them, making him accidentally spill all her drink on her. Tormund quickly proceeded to help her dry her clothes, apologizing profusely, whilst she insisted everything was alright, obviously annoyed. Then something, probably his homemade drink, prompted him to introduce himself.

“Nice to meet you, by the way. I’m Tormund, and you are,” he had stopped what he was doing to gaze into her eyes. “Gorgeous.”

Tormund will never forget the way she had looked at him. He had seriously thought she would slap him there and then. Feeling his chances with her go down the drain and completely mortified, he was ready to apologize for that terrible pick-up line and leave the pub, when, after what had seemed an eternity, she uttered her name in his ear. A wave of relief crashed over him, and the rest was history: Brienne invited him to sit with her, they chatted for the rest of the night, swapped phone numbers and he promised to call her soon.

And now, after some texts and phone calls, he is waiting for an answer after having rung her doorbell, about to take her on their first date. He is dressing dark blue suit and trousers and a purple plaid shirt. Ygritte, one of his best friends, had helped him choose tonight's outfit. He had almost felt like a 16 year-old girl trying several dresses for her party.

The door finally opens and the sight that greets Tormund takes his breath away. Brienne is wearing a blue dress, which makes her beautiful eyes even bluer, and a nice black shawl. He is certain he is before a goddess.

“Hello, Tormund,” Brienne greets him, shyly. “Right on time.”

“Hello, Brienne,” he replies, a little distracted by her presence. “You look stunning.”

A lovely shade of pink taints her cheeks. “Thank you. So do you.”

“Thanks. Are you ready?”

“Yes, let's go.” After locking her door, Brienne loops her right arm around Tormund's left one, and he leads her to his car.

“Before I forget, here, this is for you.” He gives her the yellow rose that has been hidden behind his back.

She smiles and takes the flower, bringing it to her nose to smell it. “Oh, that's so lovely. Thank you so much.”

“You're most welcome, Brienne.” He then notices a slight tremor in her arm. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just a little nervous, I guess. I actually have never been to a date. Not a proper one, anyway, so I don't really know what to do.”

“Don't you worry about that,” he assures her as he opens his car door for her. “Just be yourself and everything's gonna be alright. If it makes you feel better, I’m a little nervous, too.”

“What?” she gasps at Tormund’s confession. “You? Nervous? Really, you have got to be kidding me.”

“Am not! A woman like you deserves to have a special night, and I'm intended to give you exactly that.”

Brienne ponders his words. “Wow, that's not something I hear everyday.”

“Allow me correct that, then.” Tormund takes her hand, helps her enter his car and closes it. While he goes to the driver’s side, he is looking forward to what the evening has stored for them.

*** 

Hours later, they are back at Brienne’s door. Tormund does not think he has had so much fun with a woman before. _Wicked_ was amazing, they both have enjoyed it greatly. Another good idea he has to thank Ygritte for. And dinner was simply fantastic. Food was delicious, of course, but they had spent their time getting to know each other, sharing some stores, a couple of secrets and simply enjoying each other’s company. And the best part is that he had felt she was feeling more and more comfortable with him as time passed by. A perfect night in his opinion.

“It’s been a wonderful night,” Brienne announces after opening her door, still laughing at the last story he has shared. “Thank you very much. I’ve enjoyed it a lot.”

“I must be the one to thank you, Brienne. I’m glad you’ve enjoyed it as much as I have.” Suddenly Tormund’s face grows serious.

“What's this face?” Brienne asks with a quizzical look. “Are you alright?”

Tormund chuckles. He is thinking how nice it would be to spend the rest of the night with her, but he decides to keep it to himself. _No, not now. Perhaps it’s too early for that._ Instead he says, “I am. I was just wondering whether it’d be okay to kiss you goodbye.”

“Oh, that.” She pauses for a couple of seconds, then shrugs with a smile “Well, it certainly would, Tormund,” she smiles.

He smiles back to her, comes closer, closes his eyes, but suddenly he is stopped by both her index and middle fingers on his lips. He opens his eyes and stares at her, bewildered.

“Tomorrow morning,” Brienne adds, her lips forming a grin.

He blinks a few times. He cannot believe his ears. “You-you sure?”

In lieu of a reply, her fingers simply release his lips, before grabbing his hands and pulling him inside.

_Gods help me, I can’t believe this woman!_ Tormund eventually processes what is happening and smirks to himself, closing the door behind him.


	5. Kissing

The Starks and the other houses of the North, with help of the men of the Vale, have defeated Ramsay Bolton and his army, and Winterfell has been retaken. Everybody is celebrating the victory at the Great Hall. Actually, almost everybody.

If Brienne said she is not pleased about how things have turned out, she would be lying. But truth is, she is not. Because she has failed to get help from Brynden Tully she was assigned to. Because she would have been much more useful at Winterfell, protecting Sansa Stark. And because, she would have liked to fight with the Northern army.

With a heavy sigh, Brienne decides to take her leave for her chambers. After a few steps into the chilly courtyard, she hears the door being opened. She grunts and reluctantly turns around, expecting to see Podrick. Who she sees, however, does not entirely surprise her.

“Lass! Lass, wait!”

Tormund Giantsbane. Yes, Brienne would have liked to fight alongside him, too, she is forced to admit as she watches him run towards her. She has not had the chance to see the Free Folk leader fight, and, if she is to believe the stories she has heard about him, he must be a hell of a warrior. He even claims to have climbed the Wall! And, much to her distaste, to have bedded a bear, too.

She does not feel like talking to him right now, though. Not to anyone else, for that matter. She just wants some time alone.

“What do you want, Tormund?” she requires, crossing her arms, slightly annoyed when he approaches her.

“Where are you going, lass? There’s a celebration going on in there, and you’re leaving so soon?” he asks back, a little breathless.

“Yes, I am. I need to go to bed. The travel back from Riverrun was exhausting.” Brienne turns around, but is stopped by Tormund’s hand grabbing her arm. “Gods, what?”

He stares at her, right into her eyes, for a few seconds. “You don't seem happy,” he states.

The knight breathes another sigh of exasperation, turning to him slowly, and the red bearded man lets go of her arm. Eventually she confesses, “Yes, you’re right. I’m not happy. I mean, in a way I am, but I could have helped by bringing Blackfish and the Tully army to the battle.”

Tormund’s hand grabs her shoulder, this time. His gaze carries sympathy. “Brienne, it’s not your fault that old man refused to leave his castle. You did what you could. Besides, we managed to win those bastards.”

“But you could have lost the battle.” _And I can’t believe I have to thank Littlefinger for that._ She finds herself raising her hand to lightly touch his face. A sudden thought saddens her. “I heard you were almost killed…”

“Ha, that was nothing,” Tormund laughs, but there is a certain sorrow in his tone. He knows it is true, he might have not survived. “It doesn’t matter. Everything’s alright, now.”

“Yes, it is,” Brienne concedes, a grin spreading on her face, which makes him grin back at her. Her heart flutters when she feels him lean into her touch. “Thank you, Tormund. I should go now.” She tries to remove her hand from his cheek, be he quickly places his hand over hers.

“You need some company?” Tormund offers with that infamous leer of his.

Good thing that it is dark, so he does not have to see Brienne blush. She hesitates for a moment, before replying, “I’m sorry, but I really need to be alone for a while.”

“If you insist. I must go back to my men, anyway.” Still holding her hand, he turns his head in order to press a kiss to her palm, his eyes never leaving hers.

The two of them gaze at each other for a brief moment, before Brienne leans down, Tormund presses up and their lips meet in a quick but sweet kiss. When they part, they bid each other goodnight and go their ways.

It is funny how there is something calming, hopeful in Tormund’s kisses. The man may be a Wildling, but somehow he does know how to be gentle, how to make her feel better. And Brienne is indeed feeling better. She almost forgot what she was sad about. She has never been kissed like this before, and-

Wait.

Did she say Tormund's _kisses_?

What is she talking about? That was, in fact, their very first kiss, but for some reason it had felt so natural, like something they have been doing for a long time.

Brienne's realization makes her suddenly come to a halt.

“Tormund?” she calls before turning around. She notices that he never left his spot.

“Yeah?” he replies, clearly struggling to keep a straight face.

“What just happened?”

Tormund takes slow steps toward her. “Well, we… kissed.”

“And who... initiated it?”

“Both, I’m afraid.”

“Oh. Yes, I suppose,” The Lady of Tarth nods slowly. She does not know what she is feeling right now.

The Free Folk man closes the distance between them. It is his turn to inquire, “You didn't like it, lass?”

After reflecting for a moment, she confesses, “Well, it's not that I didn't like it, it's just that I -- I can't really say I wasn't expecting it, since I’m partially responsible for the kiss, so…” she finishes with a shrug.

“Hmm.”

Brienne is afraid to ask, but she does, anyway. “What about you?”

“I don't know,” he answers, his face only inches away from hers, his eyes traveling from her lips to her eyes and back. “I’d most certainly like to have a second kiss, you know, just to be sure.”

“Oh, really?” she laughs, and before she knows it, Tormund wrap his arms around her waist, while Brienne throw hers themselves around his neck, and they lips press against one another again.

When she sighs, he takes the chance to slip his tongue inside her mouth. Their kiss is soft and unhurried, but deep, and Brienne tries to reciprocate as best as she can with her little experience. Tormund tastes of mead and something else she cannot quite identify, his beard is soft against her skin, but it feels oh so right, so good -- better than she could ever expect. Her heart almost exploding in her chest, she feels herself diving more and more into the kiss, until she hears someone clearing their throat behind them.

Brienne ends the kiss abruptly only to find Sansa watching them with a crooked smile upon her face, prompting her to push Tormund away and break their embrace.

“Lady Sansa,” she utters, not daring face her, completely embarrassed.

“Lady Brienne. Tormund,” Sansa greets with a nod.

“My lady,” he nods back, his voice humorous.

“I apologize for interrupting your… moment, but there are matters I wish to discuss with Brienne, so if you wouldn’t mind.”

“Yes, my lady,” Brienne promptly replies, as she observes Lady Stark move away from the couple. With a chuckle, the red headed man manages to steal one last kiss from the knight, before bidding both women good night and retreating, causing her to blush even harder.

“So. You and ‘that Wildling fellow with the beard’, eh?” Sansa teases once Brienne reaches her.

She blinks a few times, feeling uneasy. “I-I’m sorry, Lady Sansa, for my momentary lapse. My only duty is to protect you, and-”

“Oh, no, you have nothing to be sorry for. So far you have served me well, so I think you deserve some _distraction_ ,” the Stark girl winks at the taller woman. “If it’s my permission you need, then you have it. Just enjoy him, and enjoy yourself.”

“Thank you, Sansa,” Brienne says, touched by her words. “I’ll try.”

“You’re very welcome. And I know you can defend yourself, but please let me know if Tormund does you any harm, is that alright?”

The knight laughs, and follows Sansa to her chambers. He better not do her any harm, but she is sure he will not try his luck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason this chapter was quite difficult for me to write, and I wasn't feeling especially inspired, but here we go. Sorry I took so long... I hope you like it. =)


	6. Wearing Each Other’s Clothes

“What are you doing?!”

Brienne's gasp startles Tormund for a brief moment, but once he recovers from it, he lets out a rumbling laugh.

“What do you think it looks like?” he retorts, opening his arms.

She yawns, rubs her eyes to see better, blinks and then it is her turn to laugh. “Seven hells, you're doing it all wrong. Here, let me help you.”

He watches Brienne remove the furs from her naked body and get up. Tormund had been the first one to wake up, needing to alleviate himself. His original plan was to wait for her to wake up so that he could make love to her and then begin the day, but as he went back to their bed, he spotted his lady knight's black metal armor on the floor and felt the sudden urge to try it. Apparently the noise has waken her.

A few moments later, Tormund is dressed like a proper Ser, at least from his waist up, since he has his trousers on. He tries to move and wield a sword in front of the mirror.

“There you go. So, what do you think?” Brienne asks, taking the sight in.

“Not bad, but this is fucking heavy,” the Free Folk leader comments. “How can you Southern folk fight with this on?”

“It is heavy, indeed, but we eventually get used to it. Very useful against swords and arrows. Is it too tight?”

“A little,” he lies. He is almost suffocating. No wonder, that armor had been designed for her. “I was just curious as to what it feels like to wear one of these. I’ve always been.”

“Now you know,” she smiles, a hand on his shoulder.

Tormund smiles back. He runs his hands over the cool metal. “Beautiful armor, by the way.”

“Thanks. It was a gift from someone... very important. Along with my sword. And since two can play this game,” she says before he has the chance to ask who this very important someone is, bends down and starts looking for something on the floor, causing him to raise an eyebrow. Tormund laughs heartily when she straightens up holding his fur coat. He promptly helps her dress it and closes the belt around her waist.

“Gods, this feels so warm, and incredibly comfortable,” Brienne remarks once she is done, smelling the thick fabric. “And you wear so many layers!”

“Aye. We gotta do what we can. You don't know how cold it is up North, woman.”

“I believe I’ve lived in the North long enough to know, Tormund. _This_ is the North, isn't it?”

He blows a raspberry. “Nope. We're before the Wall, therefore is this South.”

“Oh, right,” she rolls her eyes, and then they both laugh.

The two of them spend the next few moments contemplating themselves and each other in different clothes. They are so different, and yet here they are, together, side by side in front of the mirror, as a couple. He can picture her living with him beyond the Wall, dressed in layers and layers of fur, leaving all the Free Folk in awe. Who could have imagined he would fall for a Southern woman, of all people?

Brienne is the first one to break the silence. “I think you’d make a fierce knight.”

“And you, lass,” Tormund replies, involving her in an embrace, “would make a perfect spearwife.” he captures her lips with his and they kiss passionately until Brienne’s armor, as well as his trousers, starts bothering him.

“How fast can you remove this armor?” he asks after pulling away, smirking wickedly.

“But why? You look so well in it,” she says in a sensual voice that sends shivers down his spine, and before he knows it, she is on her knees removing his breeches. Oh, what a lucky man he is!


	7. Cosplaying

“I am no man,” she states to the imaginary Nazgûl kneeling in front of her after removing an imaginary helmet with her left hand. With a shout, she slays her enemy her equally imaginary sword, and quickly lets it go while she watches him vanish.

Simply put, Brienne loves the Lord of the Rings trilogy, and she loves Éowyn so very much. She has watched it several times now, to the point of memorizing her favorite character's lines and moves. She loves everything about her: her bravery, the way she can swing a sword, how she is not intimidated by the fact she is a woman. They can relate so much.

Brienne had wished she could go to Jon Snow's Halloween party as Éowyn dressed like a rider Rohan, but unfortunately for her, that had been part of her bargain with her boyfriend Tormund. He, also a Lord of the Rings geek, wanted to go as Gimli, a ginger bearded fellow just like himself, but she had argued he was too tall to cosplay a dwarf, and since they would go as a couple, it would make more sense if he went dressed as Faramir, Éowyn’s better half. Even though Brienne thought that was a lame excuse, and even though Tormund thought he was too broad for that, he had agreed, on the condition that Brienne would wear a dress. She had to concede in the end.

When Tormund finally emerges from their room, he is still putting his gloves on. Brienne looks at him in awe. It turns out he looks better than she has expected as a man of Gondor.

“The city has fallen silent,” she suddenly says in a sad voice, remembering Éowyn’s quote from the deleted scene of The Return of the King, the one where she meets Faramir at the Houses of Healing. She would never forgive Peter Jackson for having cut their short, but lovely exchange. “There is no warmth left in the sun.”

Tormund looks up and smiles. Then he proceeds to slowly approach her, just like the character he impersonates. “It is only the damp of the first spring rain.” Unlike Faramir, however, Tormund removes his right glove to caress Brienne's face. “I do not believe this darkness will endure.”

She smiles shyly, her cheeks burning. It's impressive how he always manages to make her blush after all this time dating him.

“You look handsome,” she finally mutters.

“That is not what Éowyn says,” Tormund replies, and they both giggle.

“Seriously though, you do look handsome. Just like I knew you would.”

“I appreciate it, my lady,” Tormund smiles before pressing a kiss to her lips. “You look beautiful as always. The dress only complements your beauty.” Then another kiss, deeper this time.

By the seven, does Brienne love him so much! Sometimes she could not believe she was so lucky to have met him, especially after she had stopped believing she would never find love. But there he is, proving her wrong each and every single day. They were like her favorite pairing, both having come from different places and backgrounds, finding comfort and solace after a great struggle. She prays the Seven everyday, thanking them for bringing Tormund Giantsbane to her like, always asking them to help her do everything she can not to ever let him go.

“We gotta get going,” Brienne speaks, hating to have to interrupt their sweet moment.

“Oh yes, the party.” Tormund blinks a few times, himself equally dazed. She turns to the mirror in their living room and adjusts her long blonde wig one last time. When she's done, takes her hand like Faramir takes Éowyn’s in the movie, and they both leave, ready to enjoy the night.


	8. Shopping

“I can't believe we're buying more mead, as if we didn't have enough back home,” Brienne rolls her eyes as she watches Tormund placing three bottles of the aforementioned drink in the shopping cart.

“Not my fault if you don't want to let go of that horrid grape water,” he shrugs. Then he adds with a smirk, “Or drink my sour goat's milk.”

She makes a disgusted face. “Ugh! Seven hells, no! I'll never drink that thing again.”

He chuckles and pushes the shopping cart. That day when his yellow haired girlfriend had tried his drink was truly funny. Unfortunately he could not get to convince her she would only have to drink a few more times until she got used to its taste. He loves teasing her about it now and then.

“You don't know what you're missing, Brienne. Besides, all this mead is just in case Sandor, Beric, Thoros and Jorah want to have a sip. If they don't, well, that's all for me.”

“Yeah, sure," she snorts. "Good thing that the Mead-King of Ruddy Hall doesn't get drunk so easily.”

“True that,” he kisses her cheek.

Tonight the four men are coming to Tormund and Brienne's place to play poker with him, which means she is free to have a girls night out with the Stark sisters, Daenerys and Missandei. Even though they are going to miss each other, they are looking forward to their commitments Right now, however, the couple are buying drinks and snacks for the players, and whatever else they may need.

“We have blood sausage and bacon at home, right?” Brienne asks after observing all the kinds of meat at display.

“Aye,” Tormund confirms. “But some haunch of goat wouldn’t hurt.”

She lights up, and starts speaking enthusiastically, “Don’t tell me we’re going to have your amazing roasted haunch of goat. I simply love your roasted haunch of goat.”

He laughs. “We are. I was thinking about Saturday night. How does that sound?”

“That’s perfect!” She rewards him with a quick kiss on his lips. “Saturday night, then.”

The red beard man simply smiles at her. After a brief pause, he suggests, “Maybe the guys will want some black bread, too.”

“Good idea. We’ll get the bread we pick some fruits. And I think we also need-” Brienne suddenly interrupts herself.

“What’s that?” Tormund looks at her quizzically.

“Oh gods, lemon cakes!” Brienne squeaks, and before he knows it, she is running toward the cake section and grabbing a tray of her favorite sweet. When he reaches her, she is beaming, but her beam instantly fades, a deep frown taking over her features.

“What’s wrong, love?” Tormund asks.

Brienne places the tray back in the container. “Perhaps this isn’t a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“I,” she hesitates for a moment, then concedes, “I may or may not have put on some weight and-”

“Stop,” he is fast to interrupt her. “What are you on about? You look fine, Brienne.”

She laughs awkwardly. “You’re too kind, love, but it’s true. I’m not really much of a sweet tooth, but I can’t control myself when it comes to lemon cakes. It’s stronger than me! I could eat this whole tray at once if you let me. And I still want to fit in that lovely dress you gave me.”

“Oh, darling,” Tormund wraps a comforting arm around Brienne’s shoulder, his voice hoarse, touched by her last statement. He had no idea she loved that blue flowered dress so much. “I still think you are perfect to me, extra pounds or not. But if it bothers you so much, we can surely do something about it.”

“Like what?”

“I, for one, could hide your cakes somewhere and give you one or two a day.”

The blond woman laughs out loud, apparently not caring about who is watching her, and he cannot help but grinning at her. Good. Brienne’s contagious laughter is a thing of beauty.

“Gods, this is so ridiculous!” she says, wiping her tears. “You just sounded like my father.”

Tormund continues once she catches her breath. “We can also exercise a bit, like running, cycling, maybe have some boxing classes. Or,” he then leans in slowly and whispers in her ear before pressing his lips against a particular spot behind it. “We can always engage in a more pleasurable kind of exercise.”

“Tormund!” she half scolds, half moans, and hits his shoulder making her ginger boyfriend break apart from her skin. And oh, there is that adorable flustered face of her again. “Alright, alright. You win.”

He retrieves the package she had left and puts it in the shopping cart. “Please, don’t torture yourself over it, alright? You’re beautiful, and I love you just the way you are.”

“What would I ever do without you?” Brienne sighs happily before kissing him. “Thank you, Tormund. I love you too. And don’t worry, I’ll try my best.”

“Good.” And with that, Tormund pushes the supermarket cart once again. Suddenly he notices Brienne is not following him and, when he looks over his shoulder, he sees her step towards him with a second tray of lemon cakes in her hands. He wants to ask what that means, but she beats him to it, her lips forming a wicked smirk.

“Just in case I need to recover from your… pleasurable kind of exercise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I took so long to post this one, it was difficult for me to come up with this scene, and I almost gave up on it entirely. But your comments gave me some support to keep writing, so thank you very much! I hope you enjoy it.


	9. Hanging Out With Friends

The first thing that catches Brienne’s attention is not Sandor Clegane’s presence, really. They had chatted briefly on their way to King’s Landing. For some reason, what surprises her is the man sat opposite to him, both man drinking ale and talking like they were old friends. The Hound stops talking abruptly at the sight of her.

“Well, if this isn't a surprise,” the Lady of Tarth says, a hint of humor in her voice, hands on her waist.

“Oh, there you are. Come sit with us, love!” Tormund shouts merrily after looking over his shoulder, then he points to a chair beside him.

“Love?” Sandor exclaims with a disgusted face. “For fuck’s sake! So you’re now officially with Brienne of fucking Tarth!”

Brienne proceeds to sit down beside her lover, who has placed a mug in front of her, his trademark huge silly grin on his face. She rolls her eyes at Tormund, then turns to the Hound. “As it is.”

Not everyone in Winterfell know of their flourishing relationship yet, so it has been a little difficult for her to come into terms with her new status, even though she is aware it would not be entirely surprise them if they did, having seen the Wildling’s glares and leers directed at her.

“I was just telling Clegane how dug myself off the snow and escaped Eastwatch,” he explains.

“A true miracle.” She was one of the first people to whom Tormund has told the story, which, had not she seen fear and truth in his eyes, she would have woven it off as one of his far-fetched tales. This has certainly become a story worthy of Tormund Giantsbane’s fame, and one he will tell for years to come, she is sure. Regardless, she is glad Tormund has survived the Night King’s attack to Eastwatch-by-the-Sea and is now back to Winterfell. Back to her.

“Unbelievable,” Sandor grunts before taking a sip of his drink. “This mad fucker wouldn't shut up about you when we went wight hunting beyond the Wall. He kept going on and on about how he wants to make giant babes with you.”

“You what?” They have barely gotten together, and Tormund is already considering children? That soon? How dare him?

The redhead only laughs at her indignation. “Why not? Not saying right now, although I’d like nothing more than for you to stop taking that moon tea of yours. But since we are in the middle of a war…”

“Which is why we agreed to wait until the war ends, so that we can discuss it,” she responds, feeling herself blush. She cannot believe they are discussing their sexual life, and in front of Sandor ‘The Hound’ Clegane, of all people. Brienne has to be honest to herself though, the war is a kind of excuse, for she does not feel ready for maternity just yet. In fact, she had given up on living a lady’s life long ago, when she decided to be a knight. Yes, she loves Tormund, more than she has ever imagined being possible to love somebody, but she still has to get used to the idea.

“You should've seen the way the Wildling fool talked about you,” Sandor comments. “Like he was describing the most beautiful creature in the world. And when he mentioned she was ‘almost as tall as me’, I couldn't believe he meant you.”

“She is, though,” Tormund shrugs and eyes her, his voice full of adoration. “And I’ll make sure she knows.”

Brienne looks away from him and drinks her ale, trying to hide her flushed face. She feels a reassuring hand on her thigh, next to her knee. It has always amazed her that he sees her as a woman, as a human being in fact, but to know that he is not afraid to tell the world how he feels makes her heart explode.

“By the way, you never told me how you and Brienne have met,” Tormund tells Sandor.

The blond woman smiles, happy about the chance of subject. “Did the Hound not tell you about our fight? How I beat him? I wonder why.”

The Free Folk man stares at her in wonder. “You beat him? Really? You gotta be kidding me.”

With a grunt, Sandor starts telling of when he was taking Arya Stark to the Eyrie when he met Brienne and Podrick Payne and how he had come to blows with her because of the little girl. “She even bit off a piece of my ear,” he shows the other man the scar. “Then she hit my head with a stone and pushed me off a cliff. Gods know why I didn’t die then. It was a great fight, nonetheless.”

“Another miracle,” she remarks. The memories of their fight makes the lady knight shiver, for she knows she could not have survived. “But I agree, it was a great fight.”

"My woman is amazing, ain't she?” Tormund says proudly, removing his hand of Brienne’s thigh to wrap his arm around her shoulder.

_His woman. I am his woman._ Brienne’s heart flutters once again. She has indeed still a lot to get used to.

“Now, I am glad you didn't kill him, or he wouldn't have saved me,” the Wildling tells her. Then to Sandor, “And I am glad you didn’t kill her, or I wouldn’t have met her.”

“Lucky me I didn’t die, eh?” the Hound snorts and drinks some more ale. “I should definitely have died, had I known my survival would lead to this,” he gestures to the couple in front of him.

Feeling humorous, the blond woman raises an eyebrow. “Oh? If I didn't know you, Clegane, I’d say you're actually happy to see us together.”

“Like fuck I am,” and he finishes his ale and gets up, irritated. As he leaves, Brienne and Tormund share knowing a look.

“He is happy for us,” Brienne states.

Tormund chuckles, then kisses her lips. “Definitely.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, another chapter. I hope I have portrayed the Hound correctly. I also hope you enjoy this one. And I'm sorry about my delay. Feedback always welcome =)


	10. With Animal Ears

Tormund and Brienne are currently at the boarding gate 15 of the Winterfell Airport, scrolling through their smartphones while they wait for their flight to the Sapphire Isle to visit her father, Selwyn, her head on his shoulder and his over hers.

“What is it with people with those animal ears?” he suddenly asks, confused, after seeing some selfies of his friends and acquaintances on his feed.

“What?” she raises her head to see what he is talking about, and he shows her his phone. “Oh, that? Those are selfie filters that people put on their photos.

“Filters?” He cannot help but feel has clearly missed something.

“Yup. It’s from a new app. Here, I’ll show you.” Brienne opens the app on her phone, takes a photo of herself and shows Tormund a string of animal ears filters. “You only have to take selfie and the app gives you a bunch of options. Like this dog one. Then you confirm, and your selfie is ready to be shared to any social media.”

“That’s cool!” He smiles at her phone, and then at his girlfriend. “And you look terribly cute with those dog ears.”

She giggles. “You’re too sweet, love.” She presses her lips to his, and just when he is beginning to dive into the kiss, they are interrupted by the boarding call, causing them to reluctantly end their loving moment to get up and get in line. It gives Tormund enough time to download the app to his phone, and then take a selfie on their way to the airplane.

Once the couple take their seats, the ginger man is experimenting with the several options the new filter app offers.

“Wow, you really liked this thing,” Brienne comments amusedly.

Tormund does not take his eyes off the screen. “I did. It’s so fun! Now I know why people enjoy it so much. Oh, look, I have bear ears!” He says, showing her his phone excitedly, like a five-year-old boy.

“You do,” she laughs. “You look very handsome with those ears. They fit you”

“Thanks. Now, come over here.” They join their heads together, their arms touching, and he presses a button to shoot his camera and take a picture of their smiling faces. Next, Tormund adds bear ears on to both their heads and shares the final product onto his photo sharing profile, with the following caption:

_On our way to meet **@brienne_of_tarth** ’s papa. I hope he likes me (and my bear ears). Wish me luck!_

When he is finished, he turns off his phone, puts it in the inside pocket of his suit and fastens his seat belt, letting out a breath he had no idea he was holding.

“You nervous?” Brienne inquires, still with her phone in her hands.

“Nope. Not the first time I fly, so I’m sure the flight will be fine.”

“I mean about meeting my father.”

“Oh.” Tormund reflects for a few seconds. Sure, he and Selwyn have chatted a couple of time through the phone, but that has been all. They are finally going to meet. This is a big move, both for her and for him, and not something he would ever want to screw up. “Now that you asked… Can’t say I’m not.”

The blond woman puts her phone inside her purse, holds his hand between hers, and looks at him sympathetically. “I know. I’ll be honest, I’m nervous too. I’ve never brought a man to father’s before. But something tells me everything’s gonna be fine.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah! I think we both should relax. It’s not like you haven’t talked.”

Tormund beams at Brienne, placing his hand over hers. “I’ll try.”

She beams back at him and squeezes his hand, and when the speech begins, she lets go of them to put her purse on the floor below the seat in front of her and adjust her seat belt. When Brienne is done, she takes his hand again, intertwining their fingers.

Hours later, when the plane arrives at the Sapphire Isle, Tormund will turn his phone on only to find notifications on his selfie; among funny replies, he will find and favorite one which will fill is heart.

_**@brienne_of_tarth** in reply to **@thegiantsbane** : Don’t worry, he’s going to love you. Like I do. Ears and all. <3_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is a bit silly, so I had to do things differently. Apparently I can past actual emojis... I hope it has worked, anyway. Also, it was somewhat inspired by [this lovely shortfic](http://archiveofourown.org/works/12685839) \- go read if you haven't!


	11. Wearing Kigurumis

“Do we really have to wear this?”

“Oh, darling, not that again. You know we really do.”

“Gods, that’s so ridiculous.”

“It’s not! People in Japan wear them all the time.”

“We’re not in Japan, though, are we?”

“Come on, love, don’t be like that. You look so cute in it! I knew you would.”

“Of course you did. Still, I don’t wanna wear it.”

“Why not?”

Brienne lets out a heavy sigh before gesturing at their reflection in the mirror, both dressed in brown bear kigurumis, he with his hood over his head. “I’m too old for this shit, don’t you think?”

“No, I don’t think you are. Like I said, people in Japan wear it, even though they’re mostly young girls,” Tormund concedes with a shrug. “But it’s for the Hardhome kids!”

Every year Tormund visits the Hardhome nursery to spend a few hours playing with the children beyond the Wall, just to bring a smile upon their faces, and in a couple of days he is taking someone with him for the first time, which he thought was a good idea. At least it was a different way of spending a day, making a bunch of little people happy, or so he said. Brienne is still feeling a bit awkward about it, but she does not really want to let her ginger boyfriend down.

“I know,” she sighs again. “I’m sorry, love. I’m just feeling ridiculous in this onesie...”

“I know how you feel,” Tormund wraps a comforting arm around her shoulder. “Trust me, I felt just like that the first time I did this. But when you see all those kids laughing with you, having fun with you, you just wanna do it as often as you can.”

She was impressed at his words. They make child care seem so easy. She is still uncertain, however. “But that’s the point: you’re so damn good with children! I’m not entirely sure I am.”

“Bullshit! I’m sure the’ye gonna love you, Brienne. But if you’re still unsure, we can go see them just this once. If you don’t feel alright, then you don’t have to go next year. What do you say?”

The amount of consideration the redhead man shows her always catches her off guard. She considers his offer for a few moments, and, after recognizing she cannot say no to him, especially when he looks at her with those hopeful green eyes of his, she replies with a resigned smile, “Well, I think I can try. For you.”

Tormund’s hands cup Brienne’s face and gently presses his lips to hers. “Thank you, my love. It means a lot.”

“No problem,” she smiles shyly, feeling herself blush. She then takes another look to the mirror, contemplating her image. “I have to admit, though, this is very comfortable and warm.”

“I know, right?” he agrees, his hands running his hand across the soft fabric.

“I’m surprised you managed to find one in my size. You know, with me being tall and all...”

“Me too, to be honest, but… I may or may not have somebody buy them in Japan,” he admits sheepishly.

“By the Seven, you’re crazy!” the blond woman laughs.

“Well, they have pretty much all the sizes. If everything goes wrong, we could use it as a pyjama for when it gets too cold.”

“I happen to enjoy the warmth your body brings, Tormund, but that’s a good idea.” She brings her hand to his chest and caresses it, while he laughs at her remark, covering her hand with his own. When his laughter dies, she asks, “How did you know I would agree with that?”

“I had a feeling you wouldn't refuse my invitation,” the bearded man winks.

“Yeah, right,” she shakes her head. Damn this man for knowing her too tell. “Can I tell you a secret?”

“What?”

Brienne hesitates for a couple of seconds before confessing, “I used to wear a pink unicorn kigurumi when I was little. With a blue horn.”

Tormund raises his eyebrows in feigned surprise. “Pictures, or it didn’t happen.”

She quickly leaves his side to look through one of her drawers, fetches a photo album, opens in a certain page and hands it over to him. Once he sees the picture, she is sure his laughter shakes the walls of their room.

“Hells, Brienne, you look utterly adorable here,” Tormund compliments. “And you making a fuss about the bear kigurumi.”

“I told you I’m too old for that, did I not?” Brienne states, half embarrassed, half flattered. She glances at the photo again, affectionately. “And thanks, by the way. Glad you like it, because I loved sleeping in it.”

“I do. Seriously, you look pretty. I should’ve bought you the unicorn I saw online. Spoiler alert: that will be your birthday gift.”

“No fucking way!” Brienne chuckles. “One kigurumi is more than enough. And oh,” she threatens with a serious face, even though her voice cannot hide the mockery, a finger on the tip of Tormund's nose, “if you tell anyone about my unicorn onesie, I will cut your balls off.”

She knows that he knows her well enough to know she is capable of doing just that. He hugs her again, bringing her body flush to his. “Not a word, my dear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So how do you like this [bear kigurumi](https://images-na.ssl-images-amazon.com/images/I/81dI2Y-PHML._UL1500_.jpg)?


	12. Making Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please check out this amazing manip of [Tormund in a bear outfit](https://teamtormund.tumblr.com/post/168603051160/my-illustration-to-30-day-otp-challenge-briemund) made by the lovely [TeamTormund](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TeamTormund/pseuds/TeamTormund) for the previous chapter. Many thanks!

Brienne holds his gaze for a couple of seconds before standing up, excusing herself and leaving the table. Her face is expressionless; she does not even smile. But that is all the sign Tormund needs. He looks around him and, apparently, no one seems to have noticed their 'interaction'. A few moments later, it is his turn to exit the hall. When he is certain nobody else is watching him, he smiles to himself as he walks towards the place where he and the Lady of Tarth had agreed to meet.

Life is so unfair sometimes, Tormund reflects. He had had little time to win that beauty of a warrior over before they went on separate ways, he accompanying Jon Snow and Lady Sansa's entourage to meet the Bolton fucker, and Brienne and his squire seeking the Blackfish's help at Riverrun. The Battle of the Bastards is over, but more are to come, of that everybody is aware. As a long time warrior himself, the Free Folk leader always has in mind that one never knows whether or not they will survive the next battle, which is why he has decided to make his move and show Brienne just how much he desires her, as their time is running out. Luckily for him, she feels the same, even though her shyness will not allow her to say it out loud.

His steps lead him to her chambers, and his heart skips a beat at the sight of her. Fuck, she is so gorgeous, and even more so in the moonlight. Gods know how difficult it was for the redheaded man not to look at her during that council. He could feel her eyes on him the moment he entered the room and took his seat. The struggle was great, but he had managed to control his urges and concentrate on the pressing matters, and so had she, he could tell.

As Tormund gets closer to Brienne, he notices she wears a frown, maybe from nervousness, he thinks, causing him to bring a hand up to her face, his thumb caressing her cheekbone. Soon her features soften a little before she leans down to capture his lips with hers, and he groans as she wraps her arms around his neck and he holds her body flush against his. It does not bother the Free Folk man that she is taller than him; on the contrary, he quite enjoys this fact.

“You're not wearing your armor,” he observes, after he breaks the kiss to catch his breath. He takes her lovely flustered face in. “About fucking time.”

The knight flashes him a glare. “Will you just shut up and kiss me?”

“Aye. Gladly.” With that, he is kissing her again, deep and hard this time, his body pressing against hers.

It is true that Tormund has always enjoyed kissing, but never in his wildest dreams has he imagined he would enjoy so much kissing a woman like Brienne. Her taste is divine, her lips are so inviting. In the beginning their first kisses were awkward, due to her lack of experience -- _Damn those southern cunts!_ \--, but he is patient and she is a fast learner, so sooner than later they have managed to perfect their kiss -- _They’ll never know what they’ve missed_. Tormund will never tire of those lips, of that he is certain, and he would not ever want to kiss other woman that is not the Lady of Tarth.

When Tormund’s mouth leave Brienne’s to start kissing and nibbling her neck, he feels one of her hands on his head, her fingers running run through his red curls, while she uses the other to push the door open behind her, and she takes a few steps back in order to make them both get in her chambers. Once inside, he closes the door with a foot and grunts both in surprise and pleasure when he finds himself pinned against it by the towering woman, her lips capturing his again. His hands are now free to travel down her back towards her bottom, squeezing it gently but firmly. The bearded man presses his hips so that she can feel his desire for her, and is rewarded with a moan.

Brienne breaks the kiss to utter, “Fuck!”

“Language, my lady,” Tormund chuckles. He seizes the opportunity to attack her neck again, this time concentrating on the scar on it. He whispers, his voice is rough, thick with lust. “Gods, woman, I want you.”

“Tormund!” she gasps, and the sound causes him to shiver, excitement building in him. “I… I want you, too, but-”

He stops what he is doing to stare at her, startled, but concerned. “But what?”

“I…” Brienne begins, but her voice fails. She is blushing, this time from embarrassment, he realizes. She looks down, incapable of holding his intense gaze, and walks away from him and towards her bed, where she sits down. She then confesses while she stares at her feet, her voice shaky, “I know you’re going to hate me, but I… I don’t think I’m ready to go further just yet. I’m sorry, Tormund.”

The disappointment in her words pains Tormund, but he is glad she has told him. He takes a deep breath in order to calm his nerves. “I'm not gonna hate you, lass,” he finally speaks, full of understanding. “It’s alright.”

“What?” she raises her head to flash him an incredulous look.

“I said it’s alright. I’m the one who should be apologizing. I got carried away. Shouldn’t force myself on you.”

“You didn’t,” the yellow haired woman blinks. “You really didn’t. But, but I thought you wanted it... me.”

“I did. I do,” he confirms as he approaches her bed and stands in front of her. He places a gentle hand on her cheek. “There’s nothing in this world I want more than for you to be mine, Brienne. But not until you want me back. Not until you’re ready.”

“Please, don’t think I don’t want you, because I do.”

“I know. It was you who arranged for us to meet, after all,” Tormund laughs.

Brienne smiles at him weakly, but lowers her head. “I spoiled things, didn’t I?”

“No!” He kneels before her so that he can take her face in his hands. Their eyes meet, and he sees she is fighting back her tears. “No, you didn’t. _I_ would’ve spoiled things if you hadn’t stopped me. I may be a Free Folk man, but I’d never force a woman to do what she doesn’t want to. I never have. I won’t start now. That’s not how we do.”

She seems taken aback by his statement. “Oh, I didn’t know that. That with stealing wives and all.”

“We may steal our wives, woman, but we ain't savages.” Tormund’s tone is soft, but genuine.

It is Brienne's turn to laugh. “Sorry. I see that, now. But what about you?”

“Don’t you worry about me, lass. I’ll be just fine. But please, remember, whenever you’re ready, I’ll be right there with you. No matter how long it takes.”

“Would you do that for me?”

“Aye,” he replies, honestly. He would wait his whole life, if needed be, to have this glorious woman. Even if it kills him. “Whenever you're ready to have me. You understand me?”

“Yes, I do.” Brienne sighs, and Tormund sighs too, relieved that things are alright between them. He does not wish for her to ever feel insecure around him. “Thank you, Tormund.”

“You're welcome,” he smiles. His hands remain on her cheeks for a little longer until he reluctantly removes them. “Guess I should be goin’.”

Tormund is standing and about to leave, when Brienne grabs both of his hands. “Don’t go,” she pleads. “Stay with me. Please.”

His beam is larger and his heart fills with love. “Aye. It’d be my pleasure, Brienne.”

And so the two of them remove some of their heaviest clothes and settle in her furs, cuddling up to each other. They share a last kiss until they both fall asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize if it didn’t turn out the way you were expecting. In my head it was supposed to be their first time, but I’m saving it for another fanfic I’ll post in the near future. Besides, I didn’t want my two darlings to be cockblocked yet again, so I thought it’d make more sense to end this chapter this way. Anyway, I hope you’ve liked it.


	13. Eating Ice Cream

If there is one thing Brienne hates about being a woman is that time of the month when she experiences premenstrual syndrome. She feels tired even if she has not done anything. She starts to bloat. Her moods swing abruptly from calm to peevish to depressed. She craves junk food. And, of course, do not forget about the cramps. Simply put, she hates everything and everyone and wants to die. Or so she feels.

Another reason why she hates PMSing is the way she ends up treating her poor boyfriend. When Tormund first caught her lying in her couch crying for no reason, she had felt so irritated at the sound of his “You alright?” question that she did not think twice and almost broke his nose with a punch. Thankfully he was fast enough to stop her fist with his hand, but then he looked so frightened, so pained that he only apologized and left her flat, causing her to burst into tears.

Until that point, Brienne had been trying to have Tormund move in with her, but after her outburst, she had seriously feared he would give up on her completely, which made her feel terribly guilty. However, he surprised her by showing up a couple of days later, handing her a box of chocolate, looking pleased to he her, a huge grin on his face, as if nothing had happened, and explained he had figured what she was going through and only wished to give her the space she needed. The blonde woman has always heard her friends complain about how their inconsiderate partners could be, sometimes trying to fix something nobody really can, and others even making fun of them; but hers is different and, over the weeks they have lived together, he has gone out of his way to help her go through that monthly hell. Tormund does not always get it right, but at least he is understanding and does not judge her. Where in the name of the Seven has he been all her life?

Right now, at four in the morning, she sitting in the middle of the sofa in her sweats and top, binge-eating a big pot of her favorite Dornish ice cream, which helps things improve a bit. Her TV is showing _The Big Bang Theory_ , but she is not paying attention to it. She does not turn her head when Tormund passes by her, still engrossed in her frozen food.

“Want some help with that?” He asks after a few moments, and Brienne turns her head to look at him. He is too wearing a pair of sweats, but topless, his hair is adorably disheveled and his eyes are half closed from sleep. He is also holding a spoon, she notices.

“You should go back to bed,” she replies. It was not her intention to wake him up, but she cannot help but feel guilt taking over her. “Did I wake you?”

“Nope. I just woke up dying to eat some ice cream. May I join you?”

“Sure.” She smiles, indicating the spot on her right side.

Tormund smiles back and takes his seat. He then places one arm around her shoulder, while he takes a spoonful of ice cream from the pot. “How are you feeling, love?”

“Like shit. But better now, thanks.”

“I didn't know my presence had such an effect on you.”

“It was the ice cream, obviously.”

Tormund giggles, and Brienne is amazed by his reaction. By his good mood. She sighs and rests her head on his shoulder.

“Not a bad ice cream, by the way,” he comments.

“Not bad? It's from Dorne! Their ice cream is one of the best ever made.”

“Then remind me to bring you some from The Gift. I guarantee you you're going to love it.”

“Alright,” she chuckles. They both spend the next minutes enjoying the frozen food and each other's company in silence, until Brienne, or her hormones, decide it is time to enjoy something else, or rather someone else. She puts her spoon inside the pot and places it on the table in front of them and takes Tormund's face in her hands. She barely registers his confused look before she covers his lips with her own. The sweet flavor in his mouth only makes him taste even better, and she moans happily when he responds to her kiss. The redhead man’s hands run across her back and waist while hers are tangled in his hair. This goes on for some time, and soon she is climbing on to his lap and straddling him. When the blonde woman moves her hips against his, she gaps at the feel of his excitement, causing her to break the kiss.

“Want to move this to bed?” He suggests breathlessly, his eyes dark with desire, his hands now on her buttocks.

“Waste of time,” she shakes her head. With a sensual smirk, she proceeds to remove her top and both of their sweats. She carefully wraps her fingers around him and strokes him a few times, reducing this beautiful man under her into a painting mess. With one last kiss, she lowers herself on to him.

If there is one thing Brienne likes about PMS is how incredibly horny she can get. Weird things, hormones. What can she do about them? But the good thing is Tormund, she is sure, likes this part just as much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas to those who celebrate it!


	14. Genderswapped

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's a little bit late for it, but Happy New Year! I hound it interesting to write this one, so I hope you like it. And I want to thank the lovely [spattergroit](http://archiveofourown.org/users/spattergroit/pseuds/spattergroit) for beta'ing this chapter.

"Beautiful evening, ain’t it?" Thorine says and chuckles when she sees him jump at the sound of her voice.

"What are you even doing here?" he hisses, glaring at her, annoyed.

She steps slowly towards him. "I cannot sleep. Came out for a walk out here and spotted you guarding the gate on your own, so I thought I’d help you with it, or just keep you company."

His mouth opens slightly, and his beautiful blue eyes stare at him for a couple of seconds before he looks down at his feet. She cannot help but grin at his reaction. After recovering himself, he cleans his throat and speaks, "Milady, I do not-"

"Thorine," the redhead woman interrupts him, stopping in her tracks. "Thorine Giantsbane. I, by no means, am a lady. And you are?"

He snorts, but eventually replies, "Bryan. Ser Bryan of Tarth. And I do not require neither your help nor your company."

"Beautiful name, Ser Bryan. Just like yourself," she beams, ignoring the latter part of his sentence.

As a spearwife and now leader of the Free Folk now in the service of Jon Snow, Thorine has seen plenty of men in her life, from both sides of the Wall, but she has yet to see a man as impressive looking as Bryan of Tarth. She will never forget the day they first met, even though it has been only a few days ago. She was quietly sharpening her knife in the courtyard of Castle Black, still reeling from Jon Snow’s resurrection, when a horn announcing newcomers made her stop what she was doing. The gates opened and when she laid her eyes on the man who first came in riding through them, she felt her jaw drop and her heart pound violently in her chest.

Bryan snorts again and looks away from her. "Right."

"You don’t believe me, Ser?" Thorine titles her head to one side.

"You’re not exactly the first one who says that."

"I should hope so! A man so handsome as you should have a different woman warm up his bed every night."

"Is this some kind of joke, Wildling?" Suddenly the yellow haired man turns his head back to her, and with one step closes the distance between them a little, his tone angry.

Thorine notices Bryan’s right hand holding tightly the hilt of his sword, but she does not flinch. "I ain’t joking, Ser. I’m being honest. You _are_ a beauty. I’ve never seen a man like you, and I don’t think I ever will."

The Free Folk woman takes a moment to take the knight in. She is considered too tall for a woman, which is one of the reasons why she is called Giantsbane, but the man before her manages to be a bit taller than her. His beautiful yellow hair glowing in the moonlight and his narrowed but impossibly beautiful blue eyes gazing into hers takes her breath away. She is sure she is before the most beautiful creature to set foot in this world, a true godsend man.

Bryan moves away from Thorine and his right hand releases the hilt so that his left one grips it. "Bryan the Beauty. That’s how they call me. They always have. But then don’t mean it."

Thorine flashes the man a puzzled look. "What? How can’t they call you a beauty without meaning it?"

"Because I’m ugly! Can’t you see it?" he blurts which makes him look around him, realizing he might have said it a little too loud.

Meanwhile, the ginger woman’s face grows stern, shock slowly giving way to anger. Damn those Southern fucks. "No, I can’t. Whoever gave you that name in mockery is either blind or a fucking idiot. Probably both."

"It’s alright. I’m used to it," Bryan replies with a shrug. After a brief moment of hesitation, he adds, looking at a certain point in front of him, "As for the ‘have a different woman warm up my bed every night’ part, it’s not that I haven’t had offers; I _have_. I’m not that undesirable, as it turns out, but it’s just that I’ve always been busy trying my best to be a respectable knight, and now I am Lady Sansa’s sworn sword, and I really have no time for it."

"You’re saying you’re a virgin?" she inquires bluntly, both eyebrows raised.

He blinks a few times before confessing, "‘The Virgin of Tarth’ is another given name, probably because they assume I’m too ugly to… you know."

The ginger woman suspects the tall knight is actually blushing, but decides against pointing it out to him. Still, it is cute to see a man this size blush, which makes her want him even more.

After the man who gave her two beautiful daughters died, Thorine would not allow herself to be stolen again. Not that there were many attempts amongst her men, for most of then see her as a sister, and stealing her would be considered as sinful as an incest, so they usually go for a woman outside the clan. That does not stop her from wanting to be stolen by the right man though, and she is sure she has found him. Tall, strong, fierce, beautiful, and hopefully she will be his first. But since the man in question is a kneeler, why not do the stealing herself?

"I ain't judging you, Ser. After all, it’s your choice and it’s your right. But," she grins wickedly, "I can fix that if it bothers you."

"It most certainly does not bother me," he says through gritted teeth.

She laughs and raises her palms in defence. "Alright, if you say so."

"What’s your game, Wildling? What is it you want from me?"

_You. I just want you. All of you. I want to be yours, and I want you to be mine. I want to fight and rebuild the Free Folk clan with you by my side. I want to have your children, lots of them. They will be great, fierce warriors, and we’ll be so proud of them. I want to tell you and show you everyday just how fucking gorgeous you are._

Thorine wants so bad to say all of those things to him, but she does not wish to scare Bryan off, so instead she replies, "Well, I wanted to tell you how beautiful I think you are, and I did just that. And since you don’t need my company, I’d better be off. Goodnight, Bryan." With a nod at him, Thorine turns around and heads toward the stairway. It does not take very long before she hears his voice behind her:

"Thorine! Wait!"


	15. In a Different Clothing Style

Brienne hisses at the feeling of the cold wind slapping in her face as she steps out of Tormund's car. Nothing could have prepared her for such low temperatures, not even the weeks she had spent in Winterfell a while ago. Really, how can it be this cold at Hardhome? She is already on her way to regretting let him talk her into taking her father Selwyn to spend the holidays here in a few month's time. At least she is glad to be outside, since her base layers were starting to bother her.

She leans on his car and quickly adjusts her pink earmuffs, puts the hood of her black parka on and covers her mouth with her gloved hands, breathing into them. She sees Tormund take his place by her side on the sidewalk. He wears his favorite pair of boots, jeans, a blue jacket and the green scarf she had given him as a gift, but his hands are bare and his red locks blow in the wind. She is decidedly envious of him.

"How about this cold, eh?" he elbows her lightly.

"Very funny," she utters after removing her hands from her mouth, then she rolls her eyes.

"Come on, it's not _that_ cold, is it? It's not even snowing! Trust me, love, I've had worse."

"Worse than this? Gods, I'm bloody freezing!" The blond woman crosses her arms in front of her chest. "How have you managed to survive this weather?"

"You have to always keep moving. Walking is good, fighting is better, but fucking is the absolute best. And," he grins wickedly at her, his voice husky, "I'll make sure we have loads of it."

Brienne makes a fake innocent face. "Walking? Or fighting?"

Tormund laughs and shakes his head. "Yeah, I'll just pretend I believe you don't know what I mean."

"We're not gonna do it at your family's place, though. I don't know them, and they don't know me!"

"I wouldn't say that," the redhead man giggles.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I might or might not have said a word or two about you," he replies with a childish smile.

Brienne raises one eyebrow, but smiles back at her boyfriend. "More like twenty or thirty."

"You know me too well," he pauses to place a quick kiss to her lips. "Besides, we're gonna stay at my old flat, so we can keep warm together in peace, maybe have some fondue and champagne by the hearth."

"And have loads of fucking?" She gives him an expectant look, not quite believing she has just said that. "Is that a promise, Mr Giantsbane?"

"Aye, you can count on me, Miss Tarth," Tormund chuckles as he wraps one arm around her waist to lead her to his brother Toregg's front door.

"That sounds so romantic!" Brienne chuckles along with him, returning his embrace. "Who would've thought?"

They stop by the door and, just when Tormund is about to ring the bell, Brienne lets out a heavy sigh, nervousness suddenly creeping into her, which interrupts his action.

"What's wrong?" he asks, his voice filled with concern.

"I," she snorts awkwardly. "I think I know just how you felt when I took you to introduce you to my father."

He frowns. "Why? This is going to be so much easier for you. It's not like you're meeting my parents or searching for their approval."

"For which I'm deeply sorry." In a sympathetic gesture, Brienne places her free hand on his bearded cheek and caresses it, causing him to smile in thanks. The story of how Tormund lost his parents to a car accident when he was little had been hard for her to hear. It will always amaze her how he has overcome such a great loss. The man is a true hero.

She continues, "Still I'm not sure about that, Tormund. I mean, I know they're your siblings, but… They're still your family. What if they don't like me?"

He gently removes her hood, takes her face in his hands and presses his lips against hers in a gentle, reassuring kiss, which makes her feel a little less colder. She cover his hands with her own, but before she has time to sink into the kiss, his mouth slowly leave hers so that he can gaze up right into her eyes.

"Please don't worry about it, Bri," Tormund pleads. "They love you already."

For some reason his affirmation surprises her. "Do they? How?"

"Aye! As you've correctly guessed, I've been talking to them about you for ages, and they're now dying to meet you. It's gonna be alright, I promise."

"And what exactly have you told them?"

"Well, you know, just that you are the most wonderful woman in this entire world and some variations," he shrugs, his thumbs caressing her cheekbones.

Brienne feels herself blush once again, thanks to his words and those beautiful, intense green eyes of his on her. Why is it that Tormund always makes her blush like a shy teenager girl, even after all these months together? Will she ever stop blushing? She honestly hopes not.

She wants to tell him that he is most wonderful man in this entire world, but she finds herself unable to speak, so instead she just looks at him for a few seconds before her mouth covers his, silently hoping he would get her meaning.

"You are impossible, dear," she whispers once they break the kiss.

"I love you too," he beams cheekly at her. "Now these earmuffs look cute on you, but let me take them off."

As Tormund does so, Brienne removes her wool gloves and tucks both articles inside her purse. Then he grabs her hands and entwines his fingers with hers.

"You ready?" he asks.

She takes one last deep breath. "Yes."

He finally rings the bell, and they are greeted by a jovial ginger she believes to be Toregg, who screams her name and hugs her like she were a friend or a relative he had not seen in a very long time.

_Yup. It's gonna be alright_ , she thinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Winter clothing, because I couldn't think of anything else... And since Tormund has two daughters in GoT, I thought Toregg, who is his son in the books, could be his brother here. Anyway, half the challenge is done. 15 chapters down, 15 to go. Thanks for the kudos, bookmarks, comments and hits so far!


	16. During Their Morning Rituals

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Time to NSFW things a little, because why not? Even though I'm not sure I've done a good job...

Tormund slowly opens his eyes and wakes up to the pleasant feeling of Brienne's warm chest flush against his back, her sword calloused hand on his chest and her lips peppering kisses on his shoulder. She is the first to wake up, and they always do in this same position, which is different from the one they fell asleep in the previous night, him holding her from behind.

Sometimes he turns around in the bed, takes his time caressing and admiring her gorgeous sleepy face and presses his mouth to hers in a dreamingly slow kiss until they both are forced to pull apart to catch their breath.

At others, their making out turns into something more: he gets on top of her and covers her long, soft body with open mouthed kisses and nips until he reaches her sweet cunt and feasts on what he likes to call his first breakfast, revelling in the feeling of her fingers running through his red hair as her moans and gasps fill the room.

And at other times, like this morning, Tormund, humming in delight, grabs Brienne's hand and kisses her palm before he captures her mouth with his. Without breaking the kiss, she pushes him on his back and straddles him, and when she pulls away, she gives him a lustful look, which makes him shiver. She places her hands on his chest and begins rubbing her wetness against his hard cock for what seems to be an eternity, while his hands squeeze her buttocks, then travel up her sides until they reach her perfect breasts and gently massage them. Then finally, _finally_ , does she lift her hips up and slide down his length, and he cannot help but thrust up to against her, erupting twin groans from the both of them.

Ah, there is no place he would rather be than inside this glorious woman, Tormund thinks as Brienne rides him, leisurely at first, then gradually speeding her movements up. He is so lucky to have taken her for his own, and before anyone else could. She is simply perfect for him, like sheath and sword, like lock and key, and now that he has her, there is no letting her go.

One of his hands leaves her hip to gently stroke her clit, his thrusts still meeting hers, and she leans forward, her forehead touching his. It does not take very long for her to reach her peak, moaning his name and, after a few more strokes, he comes too, filling her with his seed. Utterly spent, she leaves him and lays on top of him, and the two of them spend blissful moments catching their breath, her ear right over his heart, his hands running over her back, until she raises her head to kiss him.

Either way, they smile at each other, say good morning and reluctantly get out of bed to wash themselves, get dressed and leave her chambers to have some breakfast.

Tormund knows not how much longer they have until the Long Night comes upon them, nor whether he will survive -- he is sure Brienne will. Still, he silently prays the gods they both will be together for as long as they can, for they were made for each other, and his life would be a waste without her by his side.


	17. Spooning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A prequel of the previous chapter. NSFW as well. Also, it had to be short. I hope you like it anyway.

Tormund pauses after he is fully sheathed inside Brienne, kissing her deeply while she adjusts. Once she does, he breaks away from her mouth to look into her eyes and begins to move on top of her, setting that familiar pace of their coupling, and she does her best to meet his thrusts. Her long legs are tightly wrapped around his waist and one of her hands is entwined with his, while she holds onto his shoulder with the other.

Brienne is completely lost in pleasure, and before long she suddenly feels herself tightening around him, causing Tormund to groan her name in her ear. Tormund then moves his lips from her shoulder to her neck and nips her pulse point, his beard tickling her skin, and this is enough to send her over the edge, shouting his name as she arches against him, digging her nails into his back. He keeps thrusting into the blonde woman, magnifying her orgasm, until his rhythm falters and he reaches his peak, calling out her name once again.

The ginger man collapses on top of her and she kisses his forehead, enjoying the weight of his body over hers until she is forced to release him so that he can pull out of her. He then lays next to her and the two of them spend the next few moments catching their breath and allowing their sweaty bodies to cool down.

It has been like that practically every night since they got together: after a long, passionate lovemaking session, Tormund proceeds to cover them both with their furs and curl himself around her, his arm holding her by the waist and her hand entwining his. When he does not tell one of his far-fetched tales, he whispers endearments in her ear, making her blush even more and lulling her to sleep.

Brienne is a woman who can defend herself, who needs no one to protect her, who rather protects people. But she cannot help but feel safe when she is in Tormund's arms, protected in his warmth -- for a man from beyond the Wall, he certainly has a great storage of it. She feels even safer than when she is dressing her armor or when her hand grips Oathkeeper's hilt. It is amazing how perfectly their bodies fit together, like they were truly made for one another.

However, she also enjoys being the big spoon. When it is early in the morning and she wakes up facing Tormund's broad back, she loves spending several minutes counting the freckles on his skin. They make her remind of the night sky in Tarth. She never thought someone could have so many, and she is a freckled person herself. And when she gets bored of counting, she simply smiles, curls herself tightly around him, places her hand on his smooth hairy chest and kisses and nuzzles his warm skin lightly until he wakes up.

Will Brienne ever tell Tormund of her activity? She thinks she probably should, but since he has never noticed, she decides to keep her secret for as long as she can.

At the end of the day, when it comes to spooning, Brienne finds she does not really have a preference, so long as her body is as close to Tormund's as possible. And as she wakes him up with her kisses, she catches herself praying the Seven they both will survive the wars to come, so that they can do this for the rest of their lives.


	18. Doing Something Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A follow-up of ~~the shitty~~ chapter five, "Kissing". I had fun writing this one, so I hope you like it. Also, I want to thank [TeamTormund](http://archiveofourown.org/users/teamtormund) for a little help I got from her.

"Lass!" Tormund raves, making little effort to suppress his elation to see Brienne bathing in the hot springs, submerged up to her collarbone in the water. "Glad to see you here!"

"What are you doing here?" she gasps, her eyes wide open with shock.

He laughs at her reaction before he replies honestly, "Well, it looks like I had the same idea as you. After the battle against those Bolton cunts, I thought a relaxing bath would be welcome. You deserve it too, mind you."

"You can't- you're not supposed to be here!"

"And why not?" he inquires with a grin.

She remains silent for a brief moment, blinking furiously, her face reddening, then she finally utters, "I-I don't think it's... appropriate... for us to…"

Brienne looks really unsettled, Tormund realizes, and it makes his grin die a little, slightly disappointed. They shared a kiss only a couple of hours ago, but she is understandably still shy around him, and he does not wish to scare her. After all, just because they kissed does not mean they are an item. Yet. So he finds himself surprisingly willing to slow things down for this glorious woman. She is surely worth it.

"I can come back another time, if you like," he offers with both of his hands raised, and turns around to leave.

"No!" he hears Brienne shout behind him, causing the redhead man to look back at her, slightly stunned, but delighted at the same time. "I mean, y-you don't have to go right now. You can join… me."

Tormund arches an eyebrow, and his smile slowly spreads across his face once again. "You sure, lass?"

"There's plenty of space for the both of us, I guess," she gestures with her hands. "Do stay. Please."

"I don't bite, you know. Unless, of course, you want me to," he finishes with a wink.

The Lady of Tarth frowns and blushes further at his words, but she finally agrees. "Alright."

"Thank you," Tormund smiles and starts to undress himself, removing the several layers of animal fur that cover his body, fully aware of Brienne's eyes on him. Once his chest is bare, he purposefully pauses to let her admire it. After removing his boots, he very slowly pulls his breeches off, while flashing her his best lewd smirk, until she cannot hold her gaze anymore.

"Never seen a naked man before, lass?" he teases her, his arms outstretched.

"Of course I have!" she frowns again, still not looking at him.

"None like me, though, right? I'm all red, you see."

"Yes, you are," she grumpily agrees, obviously trying her best to keep her eyes fixed on his face.

With a giggle, Tormund enters the hot water, sits down at a corner opposite to Brienne, making sure to keep a respectable distance from her, and leans his back against the rock wall, his arms resting at the edge. He then lets out an "ahhhh", throwing his head back and closing his eyes. His moment of relaxation, however, is interrupted by Brienne's voice.

"Your arm," she mumbles suddenly, causing him to open his eyes and lower his head to look at her curious stare. "Sorry to disturb you, but it's just that… it looks pretty bad."

"Oh that?" he says, looking at the scar on his right arm. "Don't you worry about it, lass. It's just a scratch. Made by a spear."

"I see your nose is injured, too," she observes, her tone sad. "What happened?"

The Free Folk leader sighs, a shudder running through his body despite the hot water around him. "That Jon Umber fucker, he kept hitting me with his head. I thought I was gonna die there and then. But in the end, he got what he deserved."

"What did you do?"

"I bit a piece of his throat off with my teeth," he snorts, not feeling sorry at all.

"Seven hells!" Brienne exclaims, and, to Tormund's surprise, she leaves her spot and timidly approaches him. Raising a hand, she asks him with her eyes to touch his arm and he nods in permission. She then lightly brushes her fingers along his scar, her touch raising goosebumps, causing his heart to skip a beat. "I'm sure it'll heal. I hope it does very soon."

"Me too," he smiles. Then he observes the scars on her neck and, pointing with his index finger, he asks, "What's the story behind them?"

She swiftly removes her hand from his arm to cover ker skin, visibly embarrassed. "I… I fought a bear."

"You what?" he yelps in awe, his eyes widening. "How? How did you end up fighting a bear?"

"Well, to cut a long story short, I was assigned by Lady Catelyn Stark to escort Jaime Lannister to King's Landing in exchange of her daughters."

Tormund makes a confused face. "Who?"

"Jaime Lannister," Brienne explains. "The Kingslayer."

He ponders for a few seconds. The surname sounds familiar to him. "Is it the one who killed his father or the one who fucks his sister?"

Brienne cleans her throat before she confirms, "He's the one who… beds… his sister."

"Hm. Right," he nods.

She resumes her account, "So I was escorting Jaime when we were captured by the Bolton men and taken to Harrenhal. He eventually was freed, but I was kept captive. They made me wear a pink dress and threw me into a pit where I was to fight a bear with a wooden sword before lots of men laughing at me and even cheering that beast."

Her words make Tormund's blood boil. He grunts, "Laughing at you? Why the fuck would they ever do that?"

"For their entertainment," Brienne shrugs. "Women don't fight, so they probably just thought it was funny to see one. Thankfully Jaime came back and rescued me before the bear could kill me."

He shakes his head in disbelief. "You're making me hate the Southern men more and more, lass. Such a fierce woman like you would never be made fun of among the Free Folk."

"It's alright, Tormund. I'm used to it," she smiles sadly. "I learned to ignore it."

It is his turn to want to touch her slashes now, so he tentatively reaches out with his hand. Once he gets Brienne's permission, he fingers them softly, earning a sigh from the woman.

"Anyway, you should be proud of your scars," he states. He is cupping her neck now, and his thumb caresses her cheek. "What you did was impressive. You are impressive, Brienne."

Her face reddens once again, and he silently hopes she believes him. Her answer eases his fears. "Thank you, Tormund."

Tormund then pictures himself kissing her soft skin reverently, in order to make her feel like the beautiful woman that she is, but for now he has to fight his urge. But that does not mean he cannot kiss another part of her body.

"I'd very much like to kiss you again, lass." he whispers, his eyes travelling from her eyes to her lips and back. "Can I?"

Judging by Brienne's hesitant expression, Tormund prepares himself for her refusal, but she manages to amaze him once again, by simply nodding and whispering back, "Yes."

Relieved, he smiles, lifts his other hand to cup her face, while her hands run up his arms, and then their lips meet halfway in a gentle, slow kiss. This one is so much better than their first, more confident -- she must be a fast learner. Gods, how sweet she tastes! He is sure that, after kissing Brienne, he can never, ever kiss any other woman.

She eventually pulls away from his mouth and gives him a regretful look. "Sorry, I think I should go now. My palms are getting wrinkled," she professes, showing him her hands.

"They are," Tormund giggles, then grabs her wrists to place a kiss on each palm. "I'm not going too fast, am I?"

"Oh, no, you're not," Brienne smiles at him in assurance. "I'm just not used to… this. I hope you understand."

"Aye, I do. Take your time, lass," Tormund smiles back at her. Once he lets go of her wrists, she blushes a little before she gets up, revealing her mesmerizing body to him in all its glory, and the man cannot help but feel his jaw drop and a hardening in his lower parts.

"What?" she frowns. "Have you never seen a naked woman before?"

"None like you," he answers, taking her in. "You're a beauty."

"And all blond," she comments with a wicked smile that only arouses him more. "You coming?"

"Actually, I think I'll stay for a little longer," Tormund replies, while he discretely tries to grab his cock without her noticing.

"Alright, then. Have a good night, Tormund." With that, Brienne steps out of the lake.

"Yeah, you too," he nods, waiting patiently for her to be out of sight so that he can start stroking himself. It will be indeed a good night.


	19. In Formal Wear

"Inasmuch as you, Renly Baratheon, and you, Loras Tyrell, have thus consented in matrimony and have witnessed the same before family and friends, by virtue of the authority vested in me as a Officiant and the laws of this state, I now pronounce you married." The Officiant pauses to beam at the grooms before he pronounces, "You may seal your marriage with a kiss!"

Brienne wipes a tear off her face as she sees the two men share a look, and when they kiss, she lets out a whoop and claps enthusiastically, and everyone else follows suit.

"Gods, I can't believe Renly is finally married," she tells Tormund as the cheering subsides. "I'm so happy for him!"

"As you should be," he smiles, then gently dries her face with his thumb. "I'm sure he appreciates it. He seems to be a good lad."

"Oh, he's amazing! Can't wait to introduce you to him."

She has told him pretty much everything about one of her dearest friends now, who she had met at high school. Both teenagers had had a hard time there -- Brienne for her looks, and Renly, for being gay. On one occasion she had spotted him being hit by a group of bullies and, without thinking twice, she ran to his rescue, throwing them some punches of her own -- good thing she already was very tall by then. Afterwards she took him to nursery to clean his wounds, and that was when their friendship flourished.

From that point on, they were practically inseparable, and they would always protect each other from those who were mean to them. They have never lost touch with each other, not even after they went on to separate ways. So it was a lovely surprise for Brienne to receive Renly's invitation to his wedding to Loras, who he met at college.

Brienne confides quietly, "Also, I'm glad his brothers came to the wedding. I kind of feared they wouldn't."

"And why's that?" Tormund frowns. "They're his family. They're supposed to be here, no?"

"Well, it's a little complicated," she sighs. "Robert and Stannis weren't very accepting of Renly being gay in the beginning, but, according to him, they've seen how happy he is with Loras, so I guess everything is alright now."

Brienne and Tormund pause their chat as they spot Mr. and Mr. Baratheon-Tyrell happily walk down the aisle. She blows them a kiss and he gives them two thumbs up, to which Renly answers with another blown kiss as Loras waves at them.

Tormund turns his attention back to Brienne and says, "That's good to know. I hope they will be very happy."

"Me too, Tormund," she smiles and kisses him on his lips.

As the guests leave their seats and head for the reception, she wraps her arm around his shoulders, he wraps his around her waist and they follow the crowd. A few moments after they find a table and take their seats, Renly and Loras finally arrive and the guests start cheering the couple. They thank everyone for being here and sharing this happy moment with them. The best man's speech makes everybody burst into laughter and also get emotional. Meanwhile, Brienne's mind takes her back to the good times she had with Renly, and she beams to herself, until a distant voice interrupts her thoughts:

"-tsbane," Tormund utters; to her or to himself, she is not sure.

She quickly turns her head to look at him. "I'm sorry?"

"Nothing, I was just… thinking out loud," he replies.

Brienne wants to leave it be, but she feels her curiosity get the best of her. "About what?"

He hesitates for a few seconds, then offers, "I was wondering... How does Tarth-Giantsbane sound to you?"

"What?" she blurts out, confused. "What are you on about?"

The red haired man places his arm around her shoulder. "It's just that I find it cool that Renly and Loras have combined their last names, and I think I should very much like to take yours, since you'd have to take mine," he reveals, his face slightly flushed.

"Oh, darling, that's… very sweet of you," the blonde woman's voice falters, being caught off guard by his words. "I mean, taking a woman's last name -- how many men would do that?"

"Well, I would," he answers with one of his leers. "So do you like it?"

"Tarth-Giantsbane." She pauses to consider his suggestion. The combined last names roll easily off her tongue. "Well, come to think of it… it doesn't sound bad. I rather like it," she decides.

"Glad you think so, love," he says and brands her with a gentle kiss.

They concentrate again on the best man, who finishes his speech and proposes a toast to Loras and Renly, and all the guests stand up, raise their glasses and drink to their happiness. Only when Brienne sits down and places her glass on the table does the penny drop. She slowly turns her head and arches one eyebrow at Tormund.

"You're not actually proposing to me, are you, Tormund?"

He does not reply; instead he only grins, not looking back at her.

"Tormund," she presses, crossing her arms across her chest.

"Yes, love?" he asks in an innocent voice.

"Are you proposing to me or not?"

Tormund laughs that rumbling laugh of his. "What, and steal the spotlight from the newlyweds? Come on, Brienne. I wouldn't do that!"

"Right," she mutters after she stares at him with narrowed eyes for a few seconds. No, he would not do that. Not right now, anyway. _I mean, I love him and he's a wonderful man and we've been living together for a while now, but I don't think I'm cut to be his wi-_

"Look, it's the grooms first dance time!" he announces with a nod at their direction.

Brienne blinks a few times, trying to get back to Earth. "Oh. Sweet!"

Tormund holds out his hand to her and speaks sweetly, "I would love to have this one with you, Brienne. Can I?"

She shoots him a suspicious side-glance. "No proposals?"

He laughs again and shakes his head, but promises nonetheless, "No proposals. Only a dance."

"Good," she giggles and takes his hand. Not that she would say no to Tormund; it is just that she has yet to get used to the idea of being somebody's wife, which, for some time in her past, she never thought she could be.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just noticed I never described their clothes, but I hope you got the meaning LOL.


	20. Dancing

His left hand holds her right one while his right arm is wrapped her waist, bringing her close to him. Her left hand rests on his right shoulder. Their foreheads are joined. They cannot take their eyes off each other, not even stop smiling as they twirl around the dance floor to Joe Cocker's "You Are So Beautiful". As far as he is concerned, there is only him and her and the music in the background. They own it, like this is their own wedding and they are having their first dance.

Except this _is_ their wedding and they _are_ having their first dance as a couple.

A few months after Renly and Loras' wedding, when he was sure she had forgotten about the brief combined names conversation they had had, Tormund took Brienne to a romantic dinner at the restaurant where their first date had taken place. Once they were done eating, he dropped on one knee, pulled a jewelry box out of his pocket and, after telling her how much he loved her and how he could no longer live without her by his side, he asked her whether she would marry him.

She looked terrified, pained, and tears filled her eyes and, for a brief moment, he thought he had lost her, but then she surprised him by slipping onto her knees and giving him a searing kiss. When she pulled back, she said in a broken voice that yes, she would marry him.

He slipped the single sapphire ring he had bought her on her finger and captured her lips with his, feeling like the luckiest man in the whole world. Afterwards, they went back home, where he proceeded to make love to her throughout the night.

They took the flight to the Sapphire Isle so he would ask Selwyn Tarth for her hand. He was thrilled to give them his blessings. Next, they travelled to Hardhome to give his family the happy news and they all celebrated it with a huge party.

They spent weeks making plans for a simple ceremony in Tarth, so Brienne's father could attend, with only their families and closest friends as guests.

Tormund chose Jon Snow to be his best man; Brienne chose Sansa Stark to be her maid of honor; and they both chose Lyanna Mormont to be their ring bearer.

His heart almost burst in joy and pride when he saw her walk down the aisle toward him, all magnificent in white. He could hardly believe that towering beauty of a woman was going to be his, and his was going to be hers, in every possible way.

They exchanged vows and rings and took each other to be their wedded husband and wife, to have and to hold for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, from this day forward, till death do them part.

And now Brienne and Tormund Tarth-Giantsbane are having their first dance as husband and wife, on Valentine's Day, of all dates. She lets go of his hand to wrap both arms around his neck, giving him the opportunity to bring her even closer to him.

"You are so beautiful to me," Tormund sings in her ear, causing her to giggle and hold him tighter.

"You're everything I hope for," Brienne sings back to him. "You're everything I need."

He pulls back to look up at her. "You dance so well."

"Thanks," she chuckles. "I had an incredible teacher, who happened to want to marry me."

One of his hands leaves her waist to caress her face. "You'll never know how happy I am to have you as my wife, Brienne," he speaks matter of factly. "I love you so much!"

"I love you too, Tormund," she replies, smiling. "And think I'm just as happy to have you as my husband as you are."

When the song ends, they stop dancing and their lips meet in a gentle, loving kiss. Before Tormund has time to deepen the kiss, however, their sweet moment is interrupted by the round of applause from the guests around them, who he had completely forgotten about.

"Ugh, those people," he grunts, but quickly changes his tone to a husky one, his mind already on the things he wants to do with her later. "I can't wait to be alone with you, wife."

Brienne's cheeks gain that adorable shade of pink that makes him giggle. "Me neither. But now I have to dance with my father."

"Aye. And me, with my sister."

"Right. See you soon, husband," she gives his lips a peck and they reluctantly leave each other's arms to have the next dance with their new partners. Wedding night cannot come soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just because I wanted Tormund and Brienne to get married in both the showverse and in modern day AU, because I love them that much. And with that, 2/3 of the challenge are complete now. Only 10 chapters to go! Thank you for following me in this. And, if you celebrate it, have a happy Valentine's Day!


	21. Baking

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Check out this [lovely fan art](http://jnjlen-ou-skinjbir.tumblr.com/post/171139525471/ok-so-a-month-ago-i-read-a-genderswapped-briemund) by jnjlen-ou-skinjbir on Tumblr, inspired by the "Genderswapped" ficlet. Thorine and Bryan turned out amazing, didn't they?

_Floor, sugar, honey… I think I've got everything in here_ , Brienne thinks as she inspects all the ingredients on the table in front of her, collected from Winterfell storeroom. I hope _I'm not forgetting anything_.

"What are you doing, love?" a familiar baritone voice startles her, making her quickly look up.

"Damn it, Tormund," she grunts, her heart pounding. "You scared me!"

"Sorry, I didn't mean to," he beams an apologetic beam. He is leaning against the kitchen doorway and holds a mug. "So, what you doing?"

She beams back at him. "I'm about to bake some honeycakes."

"Honeycakes?"

"Yeah, it's one of my favorite desserts. I've been dying to eat them, but I don't trust anyone in here to bake them, so I'm doing it myself."

"Didn't know you can cook," he comments as he leaves the doorway and places himself opposite to her.

"And I can't," she explains, a hint of sadness in her voice. "I wish I could cook something, but, apart from the odd rabbit stew when I'm on the road, I'm quite bad at it. I can bake honeycakes though."

"I ain't one for southern food, but now you got me curious," Tormund admits. "Looking forward to them.

When he places his mug on the table, when Brienne takes another look at the items and suddenly gasps, "Gods, the ale! I forgot the ale! I'll get some in the storeroom."

"Oh no, no, no," the red haired man stops her before she even gets the chance to leave the table. "Don't you worry, Brienne. Here, you can have mine," he offers her his mug.

"Are you sure?" she frowns after a brief pause, not wanting him to waste his drink.

"Aye. This ale ain't very good. I'd rather have some sour goat's milk, anyway. Take it."

He is right; the ale here is not very good. But she takes the mug from his hand, glances down at it and then at him.

"Thank you, Tormund," the lady knight smiles. "I think this much will do. And I think I have all I need now."

"You're welcome," and with that, he sits down on a stool. "Want me to help?"

"Oh," she blinks, slightly taken aback by his solicitude for some reason. "Yes, thank you."  
With a beam on his face, Tormund moves around the table in order to stand beside Brienne, and together they start mixing the ingredients in a huge bowl.

"You look so gorgeous when you bake, love," he tells her at one point.

She feels her face burn at both the intensity of his gaze and his words. She giggles, "Well, I look gorgeous doing pretty much anything for you."

"That's because you are beautiful, Brienne," he declares in a serious voice, which makes her stop what she is doing to stare at him. "Believe me when I tell you that."

It is not that the blond woman does not believe him; the man has always honest with her. It is just that she is still getting used to all his praise. It is like he has been trying to make up for all those times she was called ugly. If she is being honest with herself, it is working.

"I do, Tormund. I do," she replies quietly.

"Good."

"And… thank you." She presses her lips to his in a chaste kiss before she returns to her task.

Brienne is glad Tormund and his huge hands are here to help her knead the mixture, but when it comes to shaping the buns, he shows himself to be less than useless, constantly distracting her with kisses all over her face and neck, causing her to stop to either laugh or playfully hit him.

Eventually, the cakes are ready to bake, and Brienne arranges them in a tray and puts them in the oven.

"Alright. Now we have to wait half one hour or so," she says.

This is when Tormund approaches her and flashes her one of his leers, one eyebrow arched.

"I was thinking," he begins, his voice husky, his face only inches from hers. "Maybe we could have a quick one while the cakes bake." He then wraps one arm around her waist and kisses the skin below her ear.

"A quick one?" she snorts, but gasps at the feel of his teeth on her sensitive spot. "Since when are your 'quick ones' actually quick?"

"Look what you've done to me." He makes his point by pressing his hips against hers, and Brienne is unable of holding a gasp back when she feels his hardness. "Not my fault you arouse me so much, especially baking."

"Gods, Tormund," she pleads, her breathing getting labored, as he nibbles her earlobe. "I don't want to let the cakes burn."

His mouth leaves her ear to kiss her mouth, deeply. "They won't. It will be real quick, I promise."

Brienne has to admit, she has reached a point where she can no longer deny him, even if she wanted to. She knows, however, that this will not be as quick as she would like, and she still craves for her honeycakes. _Half one hour will be enough. I only hope we won't be caught._

"Fine," she finally concedes with a smile, but shaking her head at the same time. As she grabs his hand and takes him to the storeroom, she mockingly threats him, "But if they do, I swear I'll cut your balls off."

"Sure you will, love," her lover responds after he throws his head back in laughter.

***

"Seven hells, how I missed his," Brienne moans after her first bite of her honeycake, her mouth full. "Almost as good as my father's."

She literally had to run from Tormund's arms before they engaged in a second 'quick one', but she managed to get to the kitchen just in time to take the cakes off the oven and pour honey over them.

"It's delicious," Tormund agrees. "I'd never eaten anything like this before. Very, very good."

"Thank you. It's an old recipe from my family," she states as she finishes her first bun. "My old father taught me to bake them, who had learn from his mother. He says you can't call yourself a Tarth if you can't bake honeycakes."

"And you never wanted to learn to cook?"

"No. I was never interested in cooking. I'm better with a sword, as you well know," she winks.

"That I do," he giggles as he grabs a second bun.

They keep chatting and enjoying each other's company as they eat their honey cakes until, by the time she bites her fourth cake, Brienne feels a mild dizziness and some discomfort in her stomach, which makes her drop her food.

"What's wrong, love?" Tormund asks, alarmed. "You look pale."

She puts one hand on her belly. "Oh, I don't know. I feel sick for some reason."

"Could it be the cakes?"

"Probably. I-" before she has time to finish her sentence, she is overcome by that unpleasant sensation of something going up her pharynx and the taste of bile in her mouth. Her hand flies to her mouth and she leaves the table as fast as she can towards the first empty barrel she finds outside the kitchen, where she disgorges all the honeycakes she has eaten.

Brienne can hear Tormund calling her from behind, his hands on her arms, as she coughs, bent over the barrel. Once her vomiting ceases, she slowly raises up, still feeling dizzy, and he starts to carefully clean her face and lips with a piece of cloth. When he is done, he takes her face in his hands.

"You alright, Brienne?" he inquires, his tone filled with concern.

"Ugh, I think so," she groans. "Thank you, dear. What about you? Are you feeling well?"

"Aye," he nods. "I am well."

"I don't understand. All the ingredients seemed fine to me. It must have been that horrible ale. Or the almonds."

"Aye. Maybe," he replies, but suddenly he gets distracted. His face shows worry, but something else at the same time. Could it be… suspicion?

Brienne frowns, confused. "What? What's it, Tormund?"

Tormund blinks a couple of times, as if waking up from a dream, before he suggests, "Perhaps you should go to bed and get some rest. I can find the maester, he must have something for you."

"Yes, I think you're right. Let's go," she sighs, feeling exhausted. And so, arms wrapped around each other, side by side, the couple head to their chambers, leaving the unfinished honeycakes on the table.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by two honeycakes recipes found [here](http://www.innatthecrossroads.com/honeycakes/). I used the ingredients of one and the way to prepare of another, as I didn't want Brienne to spend too much time baking. I hope it made sense. Anyway, it's the final countdown!


	22. In Battle, Side By Side

Tormund grunts as he swings his axe against another White Walker and knocks him down, adrenaline pumping through his veins. There are so many of them around him -- and he knows there are yet more to come -- it is hard to see anybody else, except for his yellow haired beauty, who is fighting next to him. He suddenly wishes he could stop to watch Brienne slay all the enemies that come her way, but he knows he must not.

When the chance for a brief pause appears, however, he does stop, and he is immediately mesmerized by her fluid movements, her fine technique, her seemly endless strength. Her Valyrian steel blade easily cuts a wight in half, reducing him to a million pieces that vanish in the cold wind. It is one thing is to see her spar with her squire, but to see her actually fight is quite another, the Free Folk leader soon realizes with a smirk. What a fierce warrior she is!

Brienne, probably noticing she is being observed, turns her attention to Tormund and prepares herself to say something, but instead she shouts a rushed "Look out!"

He wakes up from his stupor and quickly looks over his shoulder just in time to hit the White Walker's neck who is stalking him from behind with his dragonglass blade and then kick him away. A couple more attack him and he is forced to focus on the task at hand.

Tormund has no idea how much time has passed by since the southern army and the Free Folk army have been battling the White Walkers, but it does seem to stop when he hears a cry beside him.

_Brienne._

Fear hits him hard, and he looks to his side and sees his lady warrior surrounded by several Others. He does not think twice, runs for Brienne's aid and helps her get rid of them all. Once she is free, the two warriors, positioned back to back, bring all the enemies around them down with their weapons, protecting each other at the same time. The Free Folk leader feels glad they work well together, like he knew they would. He is so damn exhausted, but it is Brienne and his will to survive that give him strength to keep going.

After a while, the first horde is finally down, but not without casualties from the southern side. Tormund then drops his axe in order to place both hands on each of Brienne's shoulders and presses his lips against hers, barely giving her time to sheathe her sword. After breaking the kiss, he asks, worried, "You alright, love? Are you hurt?"

She shakes her head vehemently. "No, I'm fine. It was just a fright." She raises her hand to touch his face. "What about you? Are you well?"

"Aye, I am," he exhales with relief. He cups her cheek with his right hand as he speaks, "I got so scared when I heard you scream. For a moment, I thought I'd lose you."

He can feel her shudder. "I know! All those monsters encircling me… I thought I was going to die. Thank the Seven you were there to save me," she presses a kiss to his brow.

Tormund smiles. "I would never let you die, Brienne. I'd never dream of that."

"I know, and I would never let you die. either." Then, with a heavy sigh, Brienne confesses, "I never thought I would fight side by side with a Free Folk man, let alone one I love and care about so much."

"That bad?"

"No. Not bad at all. In fact, it's been good so far."

He raises one eyebrow and smirks. "Is that so? Why?"

"Because he's a strong, fearless, ferocious warrior, he's very protective and because," she hesitates before adding, "because I always thought I'd die as a maid, but thanks to him, that won't happen anymore."

"Then I'm more than glad to have helped you with that," Tormund laughs and captures her lips with his own in a reassuring kiss. He loses himself in her comforting embrace until Jon Snow's voice, who announces the arrival of more White Walkers, interrupts their tender moment.

The redhead man's mood darkens again. This is it. The time to defeat the Night King and his dead army once and for all has finally come. Reluctantly, he extricates himself from Brienne's arms, retrieves his axe from the snow, looks into her eyes and declares in a solemn voice, "I don't know if I'll survive this last battle, but I want you to know it's been a great honor to fight alongside you, Brienne of Tarth."

Her face saddens, but she nods in recognition of their possible fate. "I share the same sentiment, Tormund Giantsbane. But I pray the Seven we both will survive this war. I can't afford to live without you. We must survive, my love."

His heart skips a beat. She is right. "Aye. We must survive. And we will."

Tormund and Brienne kiss once again, harder this time, like it is their last kiss ever. When they break apart, they wish each other good luck, take up their weapons and brace themselves for the battle. He takes a deep breath and, as he observes the White Walkers come closer, he prays the old gods they both will survive so that he can spend the rest of his like with his towering beauty, make babies with her and see them grow as great warriors who will conquer the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is something I’d actually love to see in season 8, but I apologize if it doesn’t sound so epic. Tormund and Brienne would make such an awesome team, though. I hope D&D don’t disappoint me!


	23. Arguing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly, sorry for the delay. This chapter was a difficult one for me to write. Secondly, I wanted to do something I should have done about months ago, when I posted the first installment, and I'm sorry for it. I would love to keep writing Briemund fanfics, and I don't want this challenge to be the last thing I’ll ever do, but I also don't want to go on until I know what I'm doing wrong, where I can improve. So, if you're reading this, and feel like you can help me with some constructive criticism, please feel free to do so. Maybe it's too late to ask for it, but I'd really appreciate it.

The horn that announces a newcomer interrupts the conversation Brienne and Lady Sansa are having. They look at each other expectantly before they leave the latter's chambers. The taller woman finds it weird, since the Starks are not expecting anybody else to come, but a very small part of her wishes it would be him… Impossible.

When they get to the courtyard, they both stop dead in their tracks, and Brienne feels her jaw drop. At first she is sure her eyes are deceiving her, but after blinking a few times, and fighting the urge to rub them, she is baffled to see King Jon Snow greeting Jaime Lannister.

"Well, if this isn't a surprise," Sansa grumbles in a voice that only Brienne can hear. "Whether it's a good or a bad one, I'm yet to know."

To the Lady of Tarth, it obviously is a good surprise. She did not think she would get to see him again after their last encounter at King's Landing. However, she is aware of how much the Starks -- especially Sansa -- have suffered in the hands of the Lannisters, so she replies carefully, "We're going to need all help we can get, now, my lady, so I'd say it's a welcome one."

"Yes, I suppose you're right," Sansa sighs. "We should go to them. Come on."

They walk over the two men and talk briefly about Jaime's trip to Winterfell and some plans to be made now that he has brought a few of his soldiers. When the conversation is over, Jon and Sansa take their leave, and Brienne finds herself glad to have a moment with her friend.

"So you finally decided to join us," she smiles at him.

"Well, you know what they say," Jaime smiles back. "Fuck loyalty!"

She laughs an embarrassed laugh, but does not reply. _I can't believe he made me say that._ Instead, she asks, "What about Cersei? Will she send help?"

He shakes his head. "I tried my best to make her change her mind, but she's that stubborn. I wouldn't count on that, no."

"That's too bad. Anyway, it's good to see you again, my friend."

"Good to see you too, Brienne. Although," Jaime pauses to look at her up and down, "I can say there's something different about you that I can't quite tell."

She frowns, confused. "Different? In what way?"

Just when Jaime is about to explain to her, a shout interrupts him.

"Brienne!"

Brienne turns to look. There comes Tormund, the reason why she looks different in Jaime's eyes, the man who has made her days so much better, and she suddenly feels nervous, for now she has to introduce him to one of her best friends, and she knows not how the two men are going to react. She and Tormund had agreed to keep their relationship as private as possible for as long as they could, even though a few people, like Jon, Sansa and Podrick know about it. She has to tread carefully now, and she is not very pleased about it.

"Hello, love," Tormund greets after he presses his lips on her cheek, making her blush and smily shyly. Then he looks at Jaime and asks, "Won't you introduce me to your friend?"

"Love?" Jaime gasps. "Seven hells, what did I miss?"

Brienne cleans her throat and begins, "Tormund, this is Ser Jaime Lannister, commander of the Lannister armies. Or rather, former commander."

"Oh, so you're the one the call Kingslayer," he bluntly comments. "The one who fucks his sister."

Jaime does not seem to be bothered by Tormund's remarks, and choose to ignore them. "And you are?"

"I'm Tormund Giantsbane, also Tormund Thunderfist, Tall-talker, Horn-blower, Breaker of Ice, Speaker to Gods, Mead-king of Ruddy Hall, Father of Hosts, Husband to Bears, and her husband," he proudly finishes as he wraps an arm around her waist.

Jaime raises his eyebrows at her, astonished. "Your husband?"

"Well, yes, we," she replies uneasily. "We… are together. Not officially married, though."

After a brief pause, he finally concedes, "Well, I won't even try to hide my surprise. I mean, he doesn't seem to be your type."

"Her type?" Tormund interjects. "What would her type be?"

"I don't know," his eyes quickly scans the other man before he finishes, "someone from _this_ side of the Wall, perhaps?"

Brienne has to restrain herself from rolling her eyes at Jaime's remark. On the other hand, if Tormund is offended, he does not show. He then replies, "Oh, but I am her type. I'm the type of man who respects her strength, who admires her abilities with a sword, who marvels at her stunning beauty, who gives her the pleasure she deserves. And," he adds with that wicked grin of his as he holds her tighter, "hopefully, we'll have loads of children together."

"Tormund!" she snarls, feeling embarrassed by the disclosure of that private information, and slightly annoyed by his statement.

Her reaction seems to amuse Jaime, who chuckles. "Every sword needs a sheath, right? But I'm not judging. I'm truly happy that Brienne has someone in her life. She deserves it, and much more. Just take care of her, will you?"

"You can be sure I will, _Kingslayer_ ," the other man hisses the last word.

Brienne, who has had enough of it, is about to change the subject when she hears Jon's voice summoning him up to show him where he is going to stay. Jaime looks at her and then turns around and follows him. Before Tormund even has the chance to move, she decides to grab his arm and takes him to their chambers, where she can speak her mind without attracting unwanted attention.

"Your wife? Loads of children? Did you really have to say all that to him?" she questions him once they are safe inside the room, her voice filled with annoyance.

"Of course I did!" he growls. "Have you noticed the way he looks at you?"

She crosses her arms. "How does he look at me?"

"Like he wants to fuck you!"

Oh no, not this again. First it was Bronn; now Tormund. Where did this come from? It is true that Brienne once had feelings for Jaime, but that is in the past now. She has gotten over him, and surely, so has he.

The lady warrior sighs, "Look, if he really wanted to do that, he would have long ago. But he never did. Anyway, we're just friends. You don't have to be jealous."

"I am _not_ jealous, Brienne," the Free Folk leader affirms in a low, sinister tone that makes Brienne shudder.

She confronts him anyway, "Oh, really? And when did you decide that I am your wife and that we will have ‘loads of children'? What was that all about?"

He exhales and answers apologetically after a couple of seconds, "I didn't decide anything. I was just trying to make sure he doesn't mess with my woman."

Brienne makes a stunned face, not quite believing her ears. He has not acted jealous and possessive before. What is going on with him?

"Excuse me?"

"You're my woman, Brienne," he calmly explains. "He should understand this and not mess with you."

"Wait, _your_ woman?! And exactly when did it happen?" she demands, her hands on her waist.

"Well, when you chose to be with me. When we started fucking."

"Gods, this is ridiculous," she laughs and shakes her head in disbelief. "What makes you think I'm yours? We're not even married! I don't belong to anyone!"

"Aye, you do! You belong to me, and I belong to you," he gestures towards each other. "That's how it's done among the Free Folk."

"I'm not one of the Free Folk, though, am I?"

Tormund narrows his eyes as he states, "Good thing you're not. I would've stolen you for my own the moment you crossed the Castle Black gates."

Brienne closes the distance between them and hisses as her angry eyes gazes his, "I wouldn't have let you. I would have beaten the shit out of you."

"And I would have tried again and again and again, until you finally yielded," he barks back with a smirk, not a bit intimidated.

This infuriates her even more, and she growls, not thinking twice, "Do you take me for a weakling, Tormund? You don't know that for sure! And I'm not a property to be stolen!"

"I know you're not, but-"

"I will _not_ allow you to steal me. This is such a uncivilized and savage thing to do! I'm not a Wildling!"

Brienne shuts her mouth with her hand, as if the act could hold her words back, but it is too late now. They have been spoken, and they have hurt Tormund, who gives her an incredulous look.

"What?" he eventually mumbles.

"Tormund, I didn't mean-"

"So this is what you think of me? That I am a savage? A barbaric?"

"No, it's not true!"

"And here I was thinking you would accept a… _Wildling_ … as a lover." She cringes at the disgust the word 'Wildling' carries. "But I was wrong."

"Tormund, I-"

"You don't have to say no more, my lady," he says in a sad tone. "Now I know what you see in the Kingslayer. Perhaps you're better off with him. And I won't get in your way." And with that, Tormund passes by her towards the door.

"Please, don't go!" she pleads desperately, as she grabs Tormund's arm, but he is faster and pulls it out of her reach and, without a word, he leaves.

Brienne stands there, defeated, facing the door as tears start to fill her eyes. Gods, what has she done?

"I don't want Jaime, Tormund," she whispers in hopes he can listen. "I don't love him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Like I said, this installment was tricky for me because I couldn't think of a reason why Tormund and Brienne would fight that didn't involve Jaime. And it probably doesn't make a lot of sense, but it's here. I hope I've written him right. And I you enjoy it.


	24. Making Up Afterwards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, and (belated) happy new year!
> 
> Gosh, I can't believe it's been almost ten months since my last update. I would like to apologize for my long delay. But, you know, sometimes you just feel unmotivated to write, then you leave your wip, then you join a new fandom, find yourself a new OTP, start writing again for this OTP and before you know it, you get you motivation (and confidence) back. That's basically what's happened to me. But I'm willing to complete this challenge.

“What's happening here?” Tormund asks as he notices a certain commotion around the courtyard. Suddenly people seem surprised, but somewhat tense at the same time. Then he spots Jon Snow talking to a blond kneeler he has never seen before. “Who's that one?”

Podrick Payne, who stands as gobsmacked as everyone else, replies, "Th-that's Jaime Lannister, ser."

Tormund flashes him a glare, bothered by the title. "Ser?"

Podrick quickly corrects himself, "My apologies. Tormund."

"Jaime Lannister." The name is familiar to him. "Ain’t he the one they call Kingslayer?"

"Yes, he is."

 _More like sisterfucker_ , he thinks as he sees Brienne and Sansa approaching the two men. "He’s the one Brienne had to take to King's Landing, right?"

"That's right," his lover’s squire confirms. "He also had her armor and sword made, as a way to… thank her for what she did."

 _It was a gift from someone... very important. Along with my sword._ Brienne’s words echo in Tormund's mind, and suddenly he is back to that time he had tried her fine armor. That was what she had said back then, but she never told him who that 'very important' someone was. It had not bothered him back them, but now-

"I think they…" Podrick's voice pulls Tormund back to the present.

"You think they what?"

"I… It's nothing."

"Tell me," he urges.

"I really don't think I should," the ever hesitant squire babbles.

Feeling his curiosity get the better of him, Tormund grabs Podrick's tunic with both his hands and urges in a harsher tone, "Spit it out, boy!"

"Alright, alright, I’ll tell you," and with that, the Free Folk leader releases him. "I-I think they… had… f-feelings… for each other."

No wonder. Jaime is a handsome man, Tormund has to admit. And very rich, they say. A woman would be a fool not to fall for him, even Brienne. He cannot help but feel upset about it all.

"Hm," is his reply.

"But that was before you, of course," Podrick tries to fix things, but it is too late now.

"So it seems." He looks again and now Brienne and Jaime are by themselves. "Maybe I should go and introduce myself to him, don't you think?"

"Er-" this is all Tormund can hear from him, because he is already taking long strides towards them. He takes a deep breath in order to curb his annoyance and calls Brienne's name.

***

Tormund has no idea how long he has been sitting by the pound at the godswood, staring at nothing. He does not know what hurts him the most: Brienne’s harsh words or the fact that she probably still has feelings for the sisterfucker, which means he may have to let her go. Probably _this_ is what hurts the most. He has lost so many people in his life, and now he is about to lose the most wonderful of them all, and to that rich cunt.

Curse his curiosity! And yes, his possessiveness, too.

What will he do if Brienne indeed decides to leave him for Jaime? Free Folk men do not really do this, but maybe he should fight him? Just this once? _Bad idea. She wouldn’t approve of that._

Devastated, with his head in his hands, Tormund tries to imagine his life without the strongest, fiercest and most beautiful woman he has ever seen, when he hears the sound of heavy footsteps coming to his direction. He does not have to look up to see whose footsteps they are, but a low, fearful voice obliges him.

"Tormund?"

He does look up, and there she is, a few feet away from him, her face frowning in worry, her blue eyes swollen, but still magnificent. He finds himself afraid to ask whether she is here to finish things.

"What are you doing here?" he asks instead.

"King Jon told me I would find you here,” Brienne pauses to look around her, “among the old gods."

"Aye,' he nods.

Brienne sighs and then continues, "He's also explained to me how your people… get married. Which is what you call 'stealing'. I didn’t know much of that, I had only heard of it. So now that I know what it really means, I’ve come to apologize. I didn’t mean to say those things to you. I’m so sorry I hurt you."

"You have nothing to apologize for, my lady," he affirms with a sad smile, after considering her words.

"Of course I do! That was truly mean. I shouldn't have said that. But I was angry, because all of a sudden you started acting so possessive and… jealous.'

This is when Tormund gets up and faces her. "I was serious, Brienne. I wasn't jealous. I was just... afraid to lose you."

Brienne titles her head to one side, confused. "Lose me? What do you mean?"

"Your squire told me about you and the Kingslayer. That he gave you your armor and your sword."

"Well, yes, he did. So?" she shrugs.

"He also told me you had feelings for him, and he for you."

"And you think I still feel that way?"

"I wouldn't blame you. Look at him! He's handsome and he's rich enough to wear a golden hand! And rich enough to forge a Valyrian steel blade and a fine armor. I could never give any of those things to you, Brienne," he admits, feeling embarrassed, his pride gone.

"Tormund, don’t tell me…" she makes a stunned face. "Is that why you said I'm 'better off with him'?"

"I’m not worthy of you, Brienne. And I shouldn’t force you to stay with me. I am a Free Folk man, after all, and as one, I have to let you go if you no longer feel like being with me."

Hesitantly, Brienne takes a few steps toward him. She inquires in a cautious tone, "Is that what you want?"

Tormund looks into those beautiful blue eyes. His reply is genuine. "No."

"Good. Because that's not what I want either. And I’m not going anywhere."

For a moment, he does not know what to say; instead he watches her as she gets even closer to him. Could it be that she still wants him? He cannot help but feel hopeful.

"Let me tell you something, Tormund Giantsbane," she begins in a serious tone. "Jaime Lannister may have given me this armor and _Oathkeeper_. I will always be grateful for these and for everything else he has done for me. But he could never, ever, give me what you have."

"And what is that?"

As a reply, Brienne raises her hand and places it on his chest, over his heart. "This."

His heart skips a beat and he feels he is tearing up. He then covers her hand with his. "Brienne," he whispers.

"Yes, once I had feelings for Jaime, I won’t deny it," she interrupts him. "I thought I loved him, but I was obviously wrong, since he doesn't love me back, and he never could. He loves his sister, always have, and always will." This is when she confesses after a few seconds of hesitation, "And I love you."

Once again Brienne manages to render Tormund speechless. His heart pounds violently in his chest. His eyes begin to water. His breathing fails.

"What?"

"I love you, Tormund," she repeats, with more confidence. "I love you so much, Tormund, more than I thought I’d be able to and…" she pauses when he makes a face. “What's wrong?”

"I was hoping to tell you that first," he says, but before she can respond, his lips cover hers and kisses her with all he has for a long time, until they have to break the kiss to catch their breath.

"I love you, too, Brienne. And I'm sorry. I was an idiot, and I shouldn't have acted so possessive."

"It's alright," she smiles, one hand caressing Tormund’s cheek, and he smiles too.

"So we're good?"

Brienne is about to say yes, but she changes her mind, one eyebrow raised. "Almost. You weren’t exactly very kind to Jaime, so I think you should apologize him."

"Apologize?" Tormund protests, slightly indignant.

"Look, you don’t have to be his friend, Tormund. That’s not what I’m asking. But you both are important to me, so I really do want you two to get along. it would mean a lot to me. Please."

Yes, Tormund does not wish to be friends with Jaime. And yes, he was rude to him, he admits. He does not really feel like apologizing the Kingslayer, but if makes his beauty happy, why not? What he wouldn’t do for her?

Gods, is he so damn lost!

"Aye” he finally concedes. “I’ll do that. For you."

"Thank you," Brienne smiles again before she kisses his lips and takes him by the hand to where Jaime is.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had written this one a while ago, but suddenly I didn't know how to end it, so I left it. I may have found a solution. I hope you guys don't kill me.
> 
> And I'm still a Briemund shipper. With all my heart.


End file.
